Touching Phryne
by RCGgymratmom
Summary: I do not own these wonderful characters, but I am glad I know them. Jack touches Phryne...what happens next? Loving Series 3!
1. Chapter 1

Touching Phryne

Like many of you, I am just now getting to watch any of Series 3. When I finished Episode 4, I had to write this missing scene. I couldn't sleep until I did. Phryne and Jack each react to touching Phryne. There isn't a lot of conversation…

Jack

Jack Robinson is trying to talk with Miss Fisher about their case, but he becomes distracted by her scarf. It doesn't reflect her usual perfection in dress, but what is the problem? Ah, it is torn he realizes. He moves forward questioning and moves it to the side slightly to examine it as Phryne tells him of the bayonet attack. He feels compelled to reach the very short distance between where his fingers hold the scarf to the slight bruising just visible on her neck. Her skin feels soft like silk and so very smooth; better than silk. He trails his fingers down lightly her neck, his slightly questioning glance met by a flare in her eyes that encourages him to continue as she quips, "Archie isn't the only man who's wanted to wring my neck." Pausing to agree with her, but not removing his fingers from her soft skin, drawn as he so often accuses Miss Fisher, like a moth to the flame to feel more of her skin beneath his fingers. He longs to touch her more intimately and his long fingers trail slightly lower where he receives a slightly enigmatic smile from Phryne that he takes as permission to continue.

At first he doesn't hear Dot approaching his fascination with the heat beneath his fingertips blocking out everything else. He is actually touching her, not her elbow or her waist – the touches of gentlemen in society polite yet reserved - but her pearlescent neck. He wonders if she is this soft all over and fights the urge to move his exploring fingers still lower. Dot speaks, and the Inspector drops his hand as if shot and takes a pace back to hold his hands together in front of him, immediately trying to gather the thread of the conversation. He babbles about Hugh working an extra shift and notes Miss Williams' disappointment at missing the Pictures, but also in not hearing this news from Hugh. The Inspector babbles a bit more, he really can't think beyond getting rid of Dot so he can touch Phryne again. To make sure he isn't dreaming.

Once Dot turns to leave them, Jack moves to the parlor doors as if to leave as well, but when he gets to the doors, he closes them firmly shut instead and turns to find Phryne just a step away, her luminous blue eyes questioning, uncertain. Her chest is just the slightest bit rosy he notes. Feeling bold with Concetta's observation of his heart being taken, he steps to Phryne and places his fingers on her neck again allowing them to trail down to caress the valley between her breasts, and then with just the merest whisper of a touch he allows his fingers to trail across her breast feeling rather than hearing the hitch in Phryne's breathing.

Moving his fingers back up her neck, he brushes he jaw and then rubs his thumb feather soft across her cheekbone, all the while staring into her eyes. He doesn't see panic or mere lust there. He sees, well it is best he not name it for fear it will dispel the magic of the moment. He leans in and places a barely there kiss on the mark the bayonet left on her skin. Then he kisses her neck again and again following the path his fingers took just moments before. When he kisses her breast he feels her body respond and he groans and allows his teeth to graze lightly across the peak before kissing lips softer than rose petals.

He wants to taste her so he gently asks for entrance swiping her bottom lip delicately with his tongue. She grants permission, and he drinks her in his eyes fluttering shut. How long he has waited. His kisses speak of passion restrained; his low growls of deep need. His heart beats a staccato rhythm reminding him again of Concetta's words; reminding him of love and respect, a love that has grown from their first meeting, through the ups and downs of getting to know her better, her lovers, his fears, and respect for her quick mind, soft heart and being true to who she is. Now, finally he seems to be keeping in step because Phryne is here with him. She hasn't pushed him away. In fact, his brain registers that she is whimpering and her hands have come up to his lapels in a familiar gesture, but this time she pulls him closer.

He opens his passion clouded eyes to see passion clouding hers as well, a remembered word, "Your greatest passion is quite near, pursue it," echoes in his mind. He grins against her mouth his fingers once more caressing her neck, "Good night Phryne," he rasps and with that he is gone.

Phryne

Phryne hardly dares breathe when Jack's fingers lightly touch her neck lest she scare him away. This moment has been long in coming. His touch is electric and she babbles about men wanting to wring her neck just before his touch drifts lower, the light of promise in his eyes. The sincerity she s sees reassures her, the other emotions flickering before he shutters them, and then the moment is broken by Dot. Jack drops his hand away like he has been burned, which perhaps he has. She feels keenly the loss of his fingers against her, and her skin burns in all the places he touched.

"Where are you off to Dot," Phryne asks with a smile.

"The Pictures, with Hugh," Dot replies with a grin at Phryne.

Phryne hears Dot's response through a fog, Jack's explanation that Hugh is working barely penetrating.

As Dot turns to leave, Phryne breathes a sigh of relief wanting to return to Jack's exploratory touch, but Jack is following Dot. Phryne's heart sinks slightly and her body throbs with loss. He is leaving. He finally took initiative, and now he is leaving. She absentmindedly turns to follow him, her intent to bid him a pleasant good night with grace and humor jolted when she hears the parlor doors close. She halts a question on her lips that dies at the look of bold determination on Jack's face when he turns toward her.

Jack comes closer trailing his magnificent fingers over her skin, their slight roughness a delightful sensation. As his hand dips lower Phryne is powerless to move, hungry, so hungry for his touch. When his fingers ghost across her breast she can't help the hitch in her breathing. The man affects her like no other. She dares not break eye contact, but she allows all she is feeling to flicker through her, her eyes telling a story she isn't fully aware of.

To her surprise and delight, Jack moves his fingers again, bringing them up to trace her jaw and cheek as if she might break. Such a careful man she thinks, but she can feel the slight trembling in his hands as he restrains himself. The sensations his touch elicit are exquisite and she longs for his kiss; has longed for it since Café Replique if she is totally honest, perhaps she wanted it before, but after she dreamed of it.

Suddenly she feels Jack's lips on her neck as his lips travel a journey of their own yet following the trail of heat left by his fingers. When he grazes her breast with his teeth she believes she might pass out the feeling is so electrifying. Then he is kissing her, his kisses chaste and sweet; she wants more, oh how hard it is not to ravish him; to allow him to set the pace.

Finally just as she begins to fear it won't happen, she feels his tongue ask entrance and then they are kissing, wildly passionate kisses that feed her soul. She hears Jack's growls and someone whimpering. "Oh that's me whimpering," she thinks as awareness of her body's reaction can't be denied. Hungry, so hungry his kisses make her – she wants more; she can't get close enough to him. She grasps the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer until there is no space between their bodies.

She can feel his desire hard against her. Oh how she wants this man. None of the others kept her interest this long, certainly not with so little progression. She meets his eyes and wonders if hers contain the same look, the same glaze of passion. Phryne feels him grin against her mouth and his fingers come up to stroke her neck again, their touch so gentle maybe she is imagining his touch, and yet she feels branded, desired beyond anything she has known before and like they are on the edge of a precipice. As her mind tries to grasp the thoughts running around her head and the depth of emotion she sees in his eyes; the coiled tension of his body, she hears a quiet, "Good Night, Phryne." And he is gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Touching Phryne

This is for Roseandthistle and because Jack and Phryne insisted. Thank you to Kerry Greenwood and ABC for creating these wonderful characters and sharing them with us.

Chapter 2: Jack and Phryne Plot

Jack

Jack moves quickly out of the parlor before he can change his mind, his fingers and mouth burning and itching to continue what he started; touching Phryne. As the front door clicks closed behind him, the cooler evening air brushes across his heated face. A long sigh escapes him as he moves down the walk to the street.

His thoughts are a jumble. One thing he knows, he will not be one of her parade, several of whom flash before his eyes as he walks. Growling deep in his throat, his jealousy rising like bile to mock him, he tries to shake the restless feeling the thoughts bring. He can't compete with their money, their lack of moral compass, their much more in-depth experience; whatever else it is that draws her to them. He must be different – this much he knows beyond a shadow of doubt – if she is ever to be his and his alone. He enjoys the sound of that because for all his liberal minded talk; he really is a one woman man.

Jack squares his shoulders, lifting his face to the Australian night allowing the huge night sky to wash over him. The stars wink at him, and he calms because he is remembering Miss Fisher responding to his touch, straining to pull him closer, whimpering, her lips responding to him and her tongue seeking to know his mouth. He runs his tongue lightly across the roof of his mouth the memory of her tongue there just a bit ago causing his stomach to flip flop with desire.

He left her needing him, and though his own need is still present, still pressing his lips quirk in his own half smile grin. She may have a parade, but truth be told, the parade has dwindled, and he, Jack, is still around. He is the one she calls, the one with whom she shares nightcaps and long, soul searching looks where the world falls away, and it is as if they are the only people in the existence, the one who leaves her breathless and wanting more. Yes, the war rages, but tonight's skirmish belongs to Jack.

Jack moves more quickly now, eager to get home where he can relive the evening at his leisure in a more intimate setting, and where he can plot his next move for touching Phryne.

Phryne

He body thrumming with need, Phryne stares at the door through which Jack vanished her blue eyes dark with passion, her swollen lips parting in slight disbelief. Her emotions whirling, her initial thoughts are angry. How dare he tease her into this state and then leave her awash with unfulfilled desire. No man has ever dared, but the working part of her brain concedes, Jack isn't just any man.

Phryne's fingers once again unconsciously trace the path of his. No, Jack Robinson most certainly isn't like any other man she knows. He is the only one to resist her invitation, the only one who is truly her friend, the one who hasn't asked her to change, but who won't be one of the many. She admits as she removes her clothes and slips into her silk pajamas that Jack is in a category all his own.

Her thoughts drift back to him telling her his feelings for her are serious, and yet he backs away from her invitations, refusing to be like the others, refusing to enter the parade, refusing any real contact until tonight. As she remembers the desire in his eyes, she sucks in a sharp breath, realization of Jack's open hunger for her rocking her to her core.

His touch, which she still feels, is addictive. She wants, no needs more of it, but how to get it? As she slips between the sheets of her lonely bed, she again strokes softly along the path of Jack's touch. Finally he has actually touched her revealing that he isn't quite as aloof as he would have her think – a chink has appeared in the armor. Phryne smiles mischievously as she plots her next move for touching Jack. Now that she has felt his touch and been branded by his kisses, she needs him even more; caressing her, touching her and she realizes with a start that she longs to touch Jack; to trace her fingers along his jaw and feel the slight stubble and then to stroke intimately down his neck and chest, learning his contours as she has known no other. With another start of wonder Phryne realizes that she hasn't even thought about bedding him – merely touching him. It is a new idea for her, waiting, longing to simply touch Jack.


	3. Chapter 3

Touching Phryne

I had a lot of thoughts for this chapter so it may be a bit chaotic…also I must thank MFMM for the dialogue. Thank you for your reviews as well!

Chapter 3: Jack and Phryne Finally Waltz

Jack

Jack's next opportunity presents itself during, what else, a murder investigation at The Grand Hotel. He discovers the ballroom and Phryne tells him how her mother has always said her father swept her off of her feet during a waltz Jack's eyes glint with mischief as he contemplates dancing with Miss Fisher. She will dance well he is sure. Her grace and athleticism bode well for her dancing skills. He unconsciously clenches the hands he has stuffed into the pockets of his pants to stop himself reaching for her right then.

The case is intriguing and they continue to investigate. Phryne is uncharacteristically vulnerable with her father's involvement and Jack forces her to focus on the case taking the opportunities presented to touch her more than he might normally during an investigation. He can tell it hurts her to think of the Baron being involved in sordid activities, but when Phryne finally confides her real fears that he actually murdered someone, Jack knows he must do something.

He longs to pull her into his arms and soothe away her fears and her frustration. He is glad he is sitting on the opposite side of his desk and that she isn't sitting on it right next to him, her delicate perfume filling his senses. Otherwise the temptation to take her in his arms right here in his office might be very difficult to resist.

Jack sends off for the police report from Scotland Yard because he knows Phryne needs the truth. Jack can hardly believe the Baron capable of murder, but he has seen circumstance cause many a person to resort to killing. When the report comes in, Jack reads through it quickly and sees the description of the deceased doesn't match Phryne's memory. Breathing a sigh of relief he tucks the paper away to share with her.

After they solve the case, he accompanies Phryne to confront her father. He will stand with her if she wants and he asks, "Would you like me to stay?" When she gives him the negative "I need to have a word with him alone," Jack moves to the ballroom. While there in the beautiful room the desire to dance with Phryne invades his brain, and he can't help but wonder if perhaps Miss Fisher could be swept away like her mother. He has been, much as he hates to admit it, for quite some time, and even inadvertently declared his intentions publicly in front of everyone including Rosie when he draped his footy scarf around her neck at the Abbotsford versus West Melbourne game. How he had wanted to pull her to him with that scarf and kiss her right there in the middle of the game! Thinking back on it, he realizes a bit ruefully that perhaps they would be at a different place in their relationship had he thrown caution to the winds and acted on the impulse, but as always his discipline asserts itself and he knows that even now he wouldn't act upon such an opportunity in such a public setting. Still he allows his mind to linger longingly on the memory.

The look she gave him that day had set his heart thumping in a way it hadn't in a very long time-perhaps ever. He felt so alive gazing back her, memorizing her smile, the wonder in her blue eyes. His body tightening at the memory just as it had during the game, Jack's ever present self-discipline wrenches his mind away from the memory and he begins looking through the available dance music. Finding a song he likes he starts pulling it from its protective sleeve just as Phryne strolls through the doorway frustration written on her features.

"So, did your father shed any light on our killer's identity?"

"Of course not, another secret in his secret life," she responds scornfully.

"Care for a waltz Miss Fisher?" Jack asks as nonchalantly as he can.

"Are you sure you want to risk it?" comes the droll response.

"What's the risk?" Jack asks moving away from her toward the center of the room.

Phryne's response is a bit more animated now, "Well, I have waltzed with the best – French presidents, English princes, American film stars. The waltz is a very serious dance."

"And I am a serious man," responds Jack carefully looking back at her.

"My mother lost all reason when she was waltzed," Phryne says her voice actually serious.

Jack begins to take her small hand in his, "Well, if she hadn't this would be a world without a certain Phryne Fisher in it, and what kind of world would that be?"

And with that they waltz. As Jack suspected she is like water – fluid and graceful. Their steps quickly fall into unison that would lead even the most experienced observer to believe they had been dancing together for years. As they move, Jack hopes Miss Fisher will lose all reason; he most certainly has.

Gazing into her eyes as they move around the room he feels as if he could dance with her forever. The music comes to an end, but neither of them notices as they continue to skate around the room lost in each other's eyes.

Finally Jack maneuvers her into an alcove and pulls her lightly against him. "I can see why French presidents, English princes and American film stars seek you out for waltzing Miss Fisher."

"Why thank you Inspector," comes her slightly breathless reply. "I…" but her words are cut off as Jack's lips find hers and his hands stroke her back. Deepening the kiss Jack's tongue seeks to stroke hers; exploring. His hands settle on her hips and he pulls her even closer to his hard frame. His heart is pounding and he can't help the slight movement of his hips.

Phryne moans softly against his mouth and Jack opens his eyes to see the pulse in her throat fluttering wildly. Groaning, he breaks off the kiss, realizing they are in a very public location, "I believe a more intimate setting is called for Miss Fisher."

She opens her eyes and he sees a faraway look in them, "As it happens Inspector, I know of such a setting."

Reluctantly Jack moves away from her putting socially proper distance between them again. Phryne's hand reaches to cup his cheek her thumb wiping away her lipstick causing Jack to shudder slightly as he attempts to maintain his composure.

"My house for dinner Jack – 8:00," and with a last brush of her fingers along his jaw she turns away leaving him gaping after her.

Jack takes a few moments to bring his body under the control of his mind which he resolutely puts to focusing on work not play, even as he ponders her latest dinner invitation. He can still feel her in his arms gracefully moving around the dance floor and though he doesn't realize, he grins the grin that he reserves for her alone.

Phryne

Phryne comes to the phone a frown marring her beautiful face as Aunt P has just delivered disconcerting news about her mother. "The Grand? Dot and I are on our way."

When they arrive and Jack shows her the bag, her radar immediately goes up. It can't be. She put him on a ship. She watched him up the gangplank, saw his ticket taken.

As the case progresses her father creates havoc. Her anger with him distracts her. Jack, after making her continue to work the case, his "How can I investigate this case without you?" twisting her heart, has done his best to support her as her fears about her father tumble out. She's told no living soul about that night in England, and yet with Jack the thoughts just won't stay locked inside. What will he think she wonders? But all she sees is concern for her in his blue eyes, his long eyelashes drawing her scrutiny. Surprisingly she feels lighter inside for having shared one of her secrets with him, and knows that he does not judge her based on her father's behavior or actions.

Phryne's respect for Jack ratchets up yet another notch. Every step of the investigation Jack supports her – challenges her. She thinks about him teasing her about her father, Fisher the elder, outsmarting her, Fisher the younger, and his general liking of her father, or maybe it is grudging respect for the man who continually causes her grief is a better word for what she senses in Jack. The extra touches, holding her arm, keeping her from going to a place with her father she would likely regret, how does Jack know what she needs? Her independent nature won't allow her to dwell on the thought. She wonders what Jack thinks of her telling him about her parents slipping through the kitchen to dance in the ballroom. The Collingwood boy and her mother, now a Baron and a Lady and she an Honorable; how life changes in the blink of an eye. A slight smile graces her delicate mouth, the irony not lost on her.

What would her life be like had she not had that "urgent call of nature at Lydia Andrews' and met Jack? She finds she can't fathom her life without him being a part of it. She shivers when she thinks of the weeks they weren't uncovering the truth together; Jack's absence from her parlor making it a lonely place. Her memory of his declaration that his feelings are serious strikes her afresh with what an honorable man Jack Robinson is and just how much she has put him through.

Yet, he hasn't pushed her, not really. His patience with her really hits her now. Her thoughts shift to Concetta, and jealousy fills her mouth. A sardonic smile flickers briefly as she knows she can say nothing, and knowing Jack as she does, she understands he did not have a dalliance with her. It isn't in Jack's nature, yet she doesn't like it - not one jot. She wonders if this is how Jack feels when her dalliances are known to him; poor man.

In the excitement of preventing a duel with Valenski, Phryne realizes there are still a lot of unanswered questions, and she begins to fire them at her father as soon as she can. Henry continues to evade their questions and Phryne's frustration mounts, "Two people are dead and he still won't tell us the truth," she laments to Jack after her father leaves the room.

"There's something I think you should see; sent from Scotland Yard. It's a description of the man you thought your father killed."

Phryne's heart drops all the way to her toes. The moment of truth has arrived. As she reads the report she realizes that her father didn't kill the man and her spirit is buoyed. Another memory comes to the surface – the cracking of knuckles and she starts, "he's been her all along; the telephone man.

Once they solve the case, albeit with no name for the killer, Jack returns to The Grand with Phryne. She is inexplicably touched by his offer to stay with her as she confronts her father. "I need to have a word with him alone," she responds. She gives her father another chance to tell her the truth, but he doesn't. She tells him she has booked passage for him and that he will be going to Lilydale with Cec and Bert. She moves into the Twilight Room watching her father's jaunty walk out of the hotel.

"So, did your father shed any light on our killer's identity?" Jack asks as he holds a record in his hands.

"Of course not, another secret in his secret life," she responds unable to keep her voice polite.

Jack drops the record in his hand onto the player and music fills the room. "Care for a waltz Miss Fisher?" she hears Jack ask a flutter starting in her stomach so she opts for cheekiness.

"Are you sure you want to risk it?" Phryne asks her mind racing slightly.

"What's the risk?" Jack's airy, suave response floats to her as he walks toward the center of the room.

"Well, I have waltzed with the best – French presidents, English princes, American film stars. The waltz is a very serious dance," she breathes as she arrives at the center floor where Jack awaits.

"And I am a serious man," responds Jack carefully looking back at her his expression enigmatic.

Her heart tripping in her chest she gives him one more out, "My mother lost all reason when she was waltzed."

The tingle she feels when Jack takes her hand in his shoots all over her body, and Jack's next words are something she will cherish always, "Well, if she hadn't this would be a world without a certain Phryne Fisher in it, and what kind of world would that be?"

And with that he sweeps her into the waltz. Phryne isn't surprised that Jack is an excellent dancer as he carries himself with such easy elegance. She relaxes completely as their steps blend in perfect unison, her eyes locking with his the entire dance. Dancing with Jack is like breathing – effortless.

Phryne loses herself in the movement the feel of her hand in his and the heat radiating from the hand spanning her waist, resting almost on her hip. She doesn't tell Jack, but he dances better than any of the princes or presidents of her past.

They continue to waltz around the ballroom oblivious to the fact that the music has long since stopped. Phryne's brain is floating along with her feet, oh what this man does to her without ever having been anything less than a gentleman. Jack moves them into an alcove and Phryne's breath catches in her throat as he proceeds to pull her against his full length.

"I see why French presidents, English princes and American film stars seek you out for waltzing Miss Fisher."

Breathlessly she stammers, "Why thank you Inspector. I…" but her words are drowned out by Jack's mouth. Oh his delightfully delicious mouth. The sensations Jack's hands gliding across her back bring warmth low in her belly, and her heartrate increases.

Jack deepens the kiss seeking entrance into her mouth which Phryne grants immediately. When his hands slide to her hips and pull her intimately closer, and Phryne feels him buck against her she is unable to stop her moan of pleasure. She longs for these kisses to never stop. The feel of his strong lips and tongue and the taste of him threaten to drown her. Her mind whirls as she tries to figure out what his taste reminds her of. She kisses him harder now and his groan causes a triumphant feeling to invade her body.

Suddenly his mouth leaves hers and she is bereft, hear heart still pounding, but the words reach through the haze, "I believe a more intimate setting is called for Miss Fisher."

Phryne opens her eyes, her expression dreamy, "As it happens Inspector, I know of such a setting."

Jack releases her hips and backs away putting too much distance between them when her body just wants more of him. She reaches across the distance to cup his cheek in her small hand, her thumb brushing across his lips to remove her lipstick. His breathing is a bit erratic and she exults in it. It matches hers- she is still a bit breathless and slightly taken aback.

This is Jack – in public no less and in broad daylight. Where has Inspector Robinson gone? She feels him shudder slightly as her thumb moves across his lips again, "My house for dinner Jack – 8:00," her tone brooking no denial. Trailing her fingers softly along his jaw she forces her legs to carry her out of the ballroom. She is trembling, her heart is just now slowing, her aroused body not yet calm.

A realization hits Phryne as she is leaving – history indeed repeats itself. It seems she has lost all reason where Jack Robinson is concerned. As she thinks about how the man affects her, a memory surfaces. She is sitting by Jack at the Abbotsford versus West Melbourne match, "Anything could happen," she hears herself say.

"Even a Collingwood girl would have to stay for a match like that," Jack had said, "To humor an Abbotsford man." And he had placed his footy scarf around her neck and just looked at her. She sees herself gazing back, smiling at him the rest of the world fading away, the deep red and dark green scarf standing out vividly in her memory, as does the intense pale blue of his eyes. A public declaration of his feelings she realizes now, and in front of Rosie no less.

Other scenes flash into her mind. Jack carrying her away from Murdoch Foyle's clutches. Jack supporting her with the strength of his touch as she sobs at Janey's grave. Hearing Jack tell her to "lock her door; lock it tight" against the murderer. Jack singing with her at the piano, Jack tapping on her door in the middle of the night and telling her he isn't always noble; doesn't always do the right thing. Jack telling her his feelings are serious when he thought she died, "Unbearable" he had said. Jack saying, "I think we're more of a waltz," and her response, "a good waltz is slow and close," and Jack's serious response, "I'll try to stay in step all the same."

And stay in step he has. While she does as she pleases and has her parade of lovers, Jack still solves mysteries with her, still drinks whiskey with her after every case, and continues to make everything ok. What if he chooses not to move forward?

She finds the thought, what word best describes her feelings? Unbearable; yes it would be unbearable if Jack should back away now. She needs to plan a perfect evening for Jack, and he should know her feelings have moved forward as well.

A particular dress comes to mind. The Fleuri younger called it lethal – definitely it is the one for tonight's dinner. The thought of the sheer blue slip and the azure under slip brings a smile to her face. The dress reminds her of the ocean, and it hugs her in all the right places. The beading is restrained, but her Columbian Emeralds or the sapphires will look lovely. Her blue silk and lace knickers will be perfect for the dress.

Her eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink, she arrives at Wardlow to prepare for dinner with Jack.

Phryne discusses the dinner menu with Mr. Butler, making sure he prepares a few of Jack's favorite foods. She tells Dot which clothes she wants and then she prepares for a long soak in the bath where she can allow her mind to dwell on the Inspector and her plans for the evening.

She is out of the bath and preparing to apply her make-up, her black silk robes soft against her skin when the phone rings. She hears Dot answer, "Yes, Inspector, I will let Miss Fisher know immediately." Her mind racing as she waits for Dot, Phryne wonders if Jack has gotten cold feet – her command to dinner had left little doubt as to the ultimate menu for the evening.

Dot's voice calls out, "Miss, the Inspector was on the phone. He says he can't come to dinner. There's been a murder. He says you are welcome to join him at this address." She hands Phryne the address she has jotted down. Phryne stares at the address Dot's neat hand captured her mind racing.


	4. Chapter 4

Touching Phryne

Thank you for your reviews and words of encouragement. Work has been brutal the last several weeks and my younger daughter graduated from college and moved to a new city so I have been busy with her as well. Hope this isn't too garbled.

Chapter 4: Jack and Phryne Feed Their Hunger

 **Jack**

Jack receives the news that there is a new crime scene with stoic resignation. His disappointment barely masked he dials Miss Fisher's number. When Dot answers the phone he gives her the news in a business-like clipped tone.

The crime scene is bloody. One victim dead and the other near death and transported to the hospital. The killer, clearly in a hurry left a footprint and murder weapon behind. "Tsk, tsk," he hears Miss Fisher's approach. "This one wants us to catch him it seems."

"Why do you say "he" if I may ask Miss Fisher?" Jack's throaty growl reaches her from his position beside the body as he smiles to himself. He agrees with her assessment, but he always enjoys hearing her theories.

"For one thing Inspector, women do not like a mess – at least most of the time, and if that footprint belongs to a woman, she is a giantess."

"As it happens Miss Fisher, I agree with you. Let's focus on male suspects for now."

Phryne nods and they begin working to find the truth. It is around Midnight when they finally wrap up the case with a confession from the gardener who was involved with the victim's wife and went into a jealous rage. The wife will recover from the wounds he inflicted on her, but it will take some time as her blood loss is significant.

Jack glances at the clock, steeling himself against the disappointment of knowing the evening is ruined for their more intimate setting. Straightening his shoulders and shaking off his weariness and desires, he escorts Phryne to the Hispano. "Phryne, I am sorry that we are unable to keep our dinner plans. Perhaps another time?" Jack's heavy voice brooks no wheedling.

Jack, expecting Phryne to be angry is surprised at her reaction. She doesn't attempt to coerce him into a nightcap. She doesn't trail her fingers along his lapels as he expects. She doesn't look into his eyes with her mischievous ones sparkling with naughtiness at seeing how far she can push him. She acquiesces far too easily for his comfort. Her, "I understand Inspector. Good night or morning as it is," not what he was expecting and Jack is immediately on alert. What does Miss Fisher have up her sleeve?

He heads home knowing sleep will be a long time coming. He wishes he could throw caution to the wind and show up on her doorstep as he had done once previously, but he rarely does and won't this night. The waltz, his reactions and near loss of control are too fresh on his mind. It is risky. "What if…what if she is just toying with him as she has the others?" He suddenly feels the weight of the world settle on his shoulders – again.

 **Phryne**

Phryne freezes as she hears the phone ring, ears straining to catch who it is. Then Dot's voice calls out coming closer to her, "Miss, the Inspector was on the phone. He says he can't come to dinner. There's been a murder. He says you are welcome to join him at this address." She hands Phryne the address she has jotted down. Phryne stares at the address Dot's neat hand captured her mind racing.

Phryne's disappointment rolls off her in waves. For the first time that she can recall she is disappointed that a crime scene awaits their arrival. Sighing heavily she quickly puts on make-up and dresses in her favorite black crime scene outfit. All the while her mind is pondering the address. Suddenly it clicks, the address is very near Jack's home. Smiling broadly, her brow clearing, she skips down the stairs to give Mr. Butler some instructions regarding the interrupted dinner and then heads out to the crime scene her speed in the Hispano making up for the few extra minutes of plotting she took.

At the crime scene she finds Jack to be slightly distant and all business. This doesn't surprise her for Jack is really quite compartmentalized at work. He only slips on occasion and that only when she is brazen in her distraction attempts. They work together as they always do, each complementing the other's strengths, and they solve the crime rather quickly. Quickly is relative though as it ends up being Midnight before the gardener is caught and confesses.

Phryne walks with Jack to the Hispano, letting him take the lead. She wonders, although knowing him so well she believes he will send her home alone. She smirks inwardly as she hears Jack's words and the finality in his voice.

"Phryne, I am sorry that we are unable to keep our dinner plans. Perhaps another time?"

Not to be outdone be Jack's cool and seemingly calm demeanor Phryne merely listens. What is it Aunt P says he is? Oh yes, dour. That fits Jack to the tee at the moment. She idly wonders if he will ever truly let go. He came close during their waltz. She closes her eyes a moment and is swept back to the feel of his arms around her and his kiss.

She opens her eyes and speaks calmly, "I understand Inspector. Good night or morning as it is." She doesn't allow herself to stroke his lapels or straighten his tie. She plays along with what he thinks he desires. She feels him stiffen slightly and knows she needs to leave before she gives anything more away. Hopping into the Hispano she screeches away from the station at her usual breakneck pace, and she doesn't slow down until she gets close to Jack's home, parking around the block so as not to alert him to her presence and allow him to marshal his defenses.

Her body tingles slightly as she moves quietly up the street toward Jack's house, assessing to make sure whether he has arrived or not. She sees no signs of his presence which works to her advantage – she won't have to knock. Pulling her lock pick from her décolletage she sets to work, quickly gaining entrance into his home. She grabs the basket Mr. Butler packed and Cec and Bert dropped off from its location on the porch and enters the house. After she shuts and relocks the door she gets her torch out of her bag and proceeds to take a quick tour in order to determine the best location to carry out her plan.

Phryne pauses as her light captures his bedroom. It is Spartan and very neat which is not surprising. He does have a lovely impressionist painting breaking up the otherwise stark wall. His bedside table is stacked with books. She grins as she captures the authors' names in her light. There is plenty of room here for a picnic, but Jack will consider it the height of improper to eat with her at this time of night, much less in his bedroom. A slight huff escapes her. His room is much more convenient for her after dinner plans. A noise outside snaps her from her reverie and she shuts off the light just in case. She breathes a sigh of relief as it is not Jack and regretfully leaves his bedroom to focus on a picnic location Jack can't argue with immediately.

Phryne sees in her torch that there is a good amount of space in the living room which will be much more intimate than the kitchen. The room is cozy and masculine – again sparse and simple, but all Jack. She sees that the fire is laid in the fireplace and strikes a match to light it. Using its warm light to guide her, she then quickly lays out the soft picnic blanket Mr. Butler thoughtfully included on top of the basket. Then she begins pulling out the feast that will be their Midnight supper. Phryne knows Jack will be starving and won't stop at the pie cart, so this will be fun once he is over the initial shock of her invasion. She bites her lip, a moment of hesitation coming to her, but as she pulls out the bottle of wine wrapped in many cloths to keep it cool, she shakes off her momentary concern. The man needs to eat. He continually has that lean hungry look and she feels compelled to feed him up with food that will stick to his ribs and after that…whatever else he might be hungry for.

Mr. Butler packed cold chicken, fruit, grilled asparagus, bread and a delicious looking tart as well as china, silver and wine glasses. Phryne has just laid out the meal, lit a couple of candles to complement the firelight and moved the basket back against the wall when she hears Jack's familiar tread on the steps. She stealthily slips into the chair where he won't immediately see her upon entering the room, her heart speeding up slightly as she anticipates his reaction.

 **Jack**

Jack moves slowly home after Phryne peals out of the station. He is wide awake and feeling like it was a little too easy sending Miss Fisher home this evening. He arrives home walking with his head down, the heavy weight of letting her go drowning him, and is at the door before he notices a slight flicker of light through his window. He checks his door; locked. Frowning slightly he remembers a certain set of pearl handled tools, and his mind begins working in overdrive. Pulling his gun, he prepares it for use just in case, slips off his shoes and then opens the door as quietly as he can.

Yes, there is firelight flickering in the Parlor. He moves cautiously and noiselessly gun held ready to peer around the corner into the living room. His jaw drops as he sees the picnic laid out on the floor, but sees no person. He steps closer to the room, putting his gun away. "You can come out Miss Fisher."

"Jack, I think I should be distressed that your mind immediately thinks of me in this situation. How did you know it was me?" she asks in a falsely innocent voice.

"Miss Fisher, in all my years as a police officer, my home has never been subject to break and enter, and I ask you, whom do I know to be very fond of break and enter?" Try as he might Jack can't keep his voice hard and cold.

"Ah, Jack," she says playfully now, "I know you have to be starving, and I thought we should keep our dinner plans."

Jack's eyebrows rise, "Didn't I distinctly say another time Miss Fisher?"

"You did indeed Jack, but I couldn't let you go hungry," her voice teasing and sultry with hidden promise.

Jack's Adams apple bobs as he swallows, images that he should not allow at this dangerous hour flooding his mind; his stomach chooses to rumble loudly bringing truth to her words.

"Indeed," he responds dryly. "Well then Miss Fisher, let's eat. I don't want Mr. Butler's efforts to feed me up to go to waste."

"If you will pour the wine, Jack, I will serve the food," Phryne smiles her devastating smile at him before moving to the floor to place food on plates. Jack notes that she fills his plate with some of everything except dessert and hers with a smaller portion of the same.

He removes his coat and jacket, loosens his tie and rolls up his shirtsleeves before he pours the wine. He hands Phryne a glass and they tuck into the food, focusing on it for many minutes. Jack enjoys the food immensely, and he must admit to himself anyway that he is glad Phryne is here and he isn't alone. He is also thankful to eat Mr. Butler's cooking and not the bread and butter he planned originally when he didn't stop at the pie cart.

"How did you know I wouldn't stop at the pie cart," he rumbles out between bites.

"Really Inspector, you act as if I don't know you," Phryne responds with a fond shake of her head which causes the black silky strands to swish across her face as she looks at him with eyes sparkling like sapphires in the firelight.

Jack just stares at her mesmerized, and she stares back, the heat in the room growing exponentially. He pushes his plate to the side, "Phryne," words fail him, but the desire in his gaze is unmistakable. He holds out a hand to her, inviting her closer. Jack sees her lips part slightly, her pink tongue darting out to lick them, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Are you sure Inspector?" her breathy question echoes softly in the room, the only other sound the crackling of the flames in the fireplace.

Jack isn't sure of anything, but she is extraordinarily beautiful in the firelight with the light and shadows playing across her alabaster skin, and he wants to feel her close to him; wants to feel her soft lips against his again; wants to lose himself in her; wants to feel her velvety skin. He wants… He moves toward her slightly and she comes toward him and then he is cradling her in his arms, raining delicate kisses on her face and fisting his hands in her silky hair. He groans against the skin of her neck before he captures her lips with his and kisses her like she is a most precious gift.

Jack moves them to his couch and settles Phryne in his lap. He can't get to enough of her velvety skin though; one his hands strokes gently from her face down her neck and the thumb of his other moves in rhythmic circles over the soft skin of her wrist. Tenderly he pulls her blouse from the waist band of her trousers and allows his fingers to ghost along the skin of her back. Jack feels her skin erupt in goose bumps and the slight quiver that runs through her. Stilling his hands, but keeping them splayed across her back, he kisses her again, his tongue stroking across her lips and then tickling the roof of her mouth. Deepening the kiss, Jack allows his hands to stroke her soft skin again, sweeping across her ribs to her flat stomach triggering a soft moan from Phryne who squirms against him causing her to come in contact with the very distinct evidence of his need. Shuddering Jack pushes her away slightly, breathing heavily his warm breath tickling her ear. "Phryne, I…"

"Inspector, for a man of few words, you pick the most inopportune times to become chatty."

Jack hears the tremor in her voice and pulls back slightly to look at her. He is unable to voice what he is feeling now and the blood surging through his body tells him not to be noble. He sees desire in her eyes and the flicker of something more perhaps. He wages a silent war with himself all the while gently stroking her sides. Her skin is so soft, the pads of his fingers feel as if they have a thousand nerves and each one is on fire. He pulls her firmly against himself and kisses her with purpose, his passion flaring as he holds her close and his long fingers brush up her sides and across the underside of her breasts. Her skin here is especially silky, and Jack wonders what she looks like naked in firelight. He thinks she will glow and he can't help the groan that escapes his lips to be lost in their kiss. His passion is matched by Phryne which doesn't surprise him, and more than once she just brushes him through his trousers; however, he is rapidly losing his ability to think even remotely clearly as her small hands and clever fingers continue their quest. With a monumental effort, for he thinks he can feast there for eternity, Jack releases her mouth.

"Time for dessert I think Miss Fisher," his ragged breathing sounding harsh.

He senses more than hears her sigh and she moves her hands pushing back slightly to look at him. Jack just now registers that she has managed to get her hands beneath his shirt and they are resting against the flat planes of his stomach.

"If you insist Jack," her voice clearly indicating she does not like the idea.

"I do Miss Fisher. We can't let Mr. Butler's hard work go to waste."

"Very well, Jack. You are obviously still hungry."

Jack can't disagree with her. He most definitely hungers, and not for Mr. Butler's apple tart; however, eating dessert seems to be the better part of valor at the moment. He must gather his thoughts without her distracting him with her warm hands and soft mouth.

As they eat dessert, Jack tries with little success not to look at her kiss swollen lips and her mussed clothing, thinking again about what she will look like out of her clothing. He imagines scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bedroom. Time to make a decision Jack, he thinks and his body continues to suggest a move an even more intimate location. They are nearly done with dessert. Jack is feeling pleasantly full and just a bit flushed from the wine as well as his feverish body.

"Phryne, will you…" At the same time he hears Phryne say softly, "Jack I need to…" They both stop speaking waiting for the other to finish. Jack gestures for Phryne to complete her thought. He can tell she is marshaling her words when his phone rings. Rolling his eyes he stands and moves to answer the phone. "Jack Robinson here," he speaks into the phone, but turns to look at Phryne. She has retrieved the basket and is packing away the remnants of their meal, although she leaves the tart out. He mouths "Sorry" to her and she tilts her head in understanding, though she does roll her eyes.

"I'll be there shortly, Constable," Jack rumbles into the phone. Hanging up, he moves back to Phryne. "I am sorry Miss Fisher, but duty calls."

"Let me drop you back at the station Jack. It is on my way home," Phryne says with a wry smile.

Jack nods and proceeds to put his armor back in place as Phryne finishes the packing away and sets the tart on his kitchen table.

When they get into the foyer area, Jack tries again, "Phryne thank you for dinner. I was very hungry." He tilts her chin up so he can look into her eyes, "Still am," and with that he cradles her face with his hands and kisses her until they are both breathless again. Then opening the door they proceed out into the very early morning darkness.

 **Phryne**

As Jack enters the house, Phryne's nerves rear up and she nearly giggles with the effort of being quiet while he sneaks into the room.

"You can come out Miss Fisher." Jack's voice has a cold edge to it. Phryne winces slightly, but she has come too far to allow him to intimidate her now.

Putting on her most innocent air Phryne responds, "Jack, I think I should be distressed that your mind immediately thinks of me in this situation. How did you know it was me?"

"Miss Fisher, in all my years as a police officer, my home has never been subject to break and enter, and I ask you, whom do I know to be very fond of break and enter?"

She can tell he is only trying to be angry now, so she responds playfully, "Ah, Jack, I know you have to be starving, and I thought we should keep our dinner plans."

She watches Jack raise his eyebrows, "Didn't I distinctly say another time Miss Fisher?"

"You did indeed Jack, but I couldn't let you go hungry," she teases with just a touch of sultry sexiness and double entendre.

She sets about putting food on their plates as Jack gets comfortable and pours the wine.

She hands him his plate and they begin eating. Phryne is content to watch Jack eat, and frankly she is hungrier herself than she anticipated.

"How did you know I wouldn't stop at the pie cart," his bass voice rumbles across the room.

Rolling her eyes internally and simpering slightly she replies in a slightly incredulous way, "Really Inspector, you act as if I don't know you," shaking her head fondly causing her hair swish across her face as she looks at him.

Jack is staring unblinkingly at her so she stares back, feeling her blood heat and her heart begin to pound. Really this man and what he does to her!

She watches wordlessly as he pushes his plate to the side, "Phryne," he says and nothing more. She continues to watch him seeing the desire in his light blue eyes dark now with his thoughts. He holds out a hand to her, inviting her closer.

Phryne gives Jack an assessing look parting her lips slightly, her pink tongue darting out to lick them, uncertainty in her eyes. "Are you sure Inspector?" she questions, voice breathier than she intended.

She sees uncertainty and desire waging war in Jack's eyes and decides that she will move toward him. She does shift her weight towards him and she notes that he has moved toward her as well. Her heart lightens a bit, and she wonders what will happen next.

Jack cradles her in his arms, raining delicate kisses on her face and fisting his hands in her silky hair. She hears him groan against the skin of her neck before he captures her lips with his and kisses her like she is a most precious gift. Phryne isn't sure she has ever been kissed with such reverence. She senses lust, yes, but there is something more. Something indefinable

She feels Jack move them to the couch and settle her in his lap. She feels the touch of his hands on her skin, his gentle stroking stoking a fire in her. To her surprise and delight Jack gently pulls her blouse from the waist band of her trousers and allows his fingers to ghost along the skin of her back. Phryne's skin erupts in goose bumps and she can't control the slight quiver that runs through her. I hope he never stops, but to her slight disappointment Jack's hands still. She wants to cry out to him to continue, but she is afraid she will scare him. He doesn't remove his hands so she relaxes a fraction and then he is kissing her again, his tongue stroking across her lips and tickling the roof of her mouth. Jack deepens the kiss, and Phryne feels his hands stroke her soft skin again, sweeping across her ribs to her flat stomach.

Phryne is unable to restrain a soft moan; the sensations are so exquisite. She squirms against him in reaction and comes in contact with the very distinct evidence of his need which is really quite enlightening. She realizes that she can size things up quite nicely and finds she is not at all disappointed. In fact, there is more than enough investigative evidence to ensure that she will be very pleased, and so much more than she was able to assess in her previous investigations. She remembers when she observed him in his swim suit at Queen's Cliff and thought he would be quite creditable. Grateful for the sunglasses hiding her eyes at the time, she had made sure she licked her ice-cream cone so that she did not accidentally give any verbal clues as to her thoughts. She is pleased to find that her observational skills are not lacking.

Feeling Jack shudder and push her away from him slightly, his warm breath tickling her ear as he pants slightly. "Phryne, I…"

"Inspector, for a man of few words, you pick the most inopportune times to become chatty." She can't help the slight tremor in her voice. She really was enjoying his attentions.

She feels Jack pull back a bit more and then he is looking at her, but he says not another word and he does continue to stroke her sides. Phryne responds to his look by allowing her emotions to well up in her. Phryne senses a crossroads as Jack pulls her firmly against him and kisses her with purpose, holding her close and using his long fingers to brush up her sides and across the underside of her breasts. When his fingers contact the sensitive skin of her breasts, Phryne closes her eyes. She hears Jack groan and her passion rises to match his. More than once she brushes him through his trousers unable to keep her fingers from assessing length and heft. She manages to untuck his shirt enough to get her hands inside it and her fingers are resting against the flat planes of his stomach, her sensitive fingers feeling the fine hair that is making its way beneath his waistband.

It is after one of her brief assessments that Jack releases her mouth. "Time for dessert I think Miss Fisher," his voice and ragged breathing harsh in her ear. Phryne releases the whisper of a sigh her voice tightly controlled, "If you insist Jack."

"I do Miss Fisher. We can't let Mr. Butler's hard work go to waste."

"Very well, Jack. You are obviously still hungry." Phryne is a bit disappointed. Her mind and body were making their way into Jack's bedroom and delighting in the discoveries to be made there. Her desire for dessert went out the window with his first kiss.

Phryne feels Jack looking at her from time to time while they eat Mr. Butler's apple tart.

She wonders what is going through his mind. She wonders about telling him of her thoughts about how she feels about him and how she thinks she has lost all reason. Finally she ventures to speak very softly "Jack I need to…" At the exact same time she hears Jack say, "Phryne, will you…"

They both stop speaking waiting for the other to finish. Jack gestures for Phryne to complete her thought. Phryne works to gather her thoughts and words; she is so seldom rendered speechless. She is silenced again with the shrill ringing of Jack's phone. Immediately Jack stands and moves to answer the phone breaking the spell of the moment. "Jack Robinson here," he speaks into the phone all business, but turns to look at her as she packs away their picnic. Phryne sees Jack mouth "Sorry" to her, and while she tilts her head in understanding, she can't resist rolling her eyes at the thought that fate intervenes again.

"I'll be there shortly, Constable," she hears Jack's deep voice rumble into the phone. "I am sorry Miss Fisher, but duty calls."

She does understand. She would prefer they not be interrupted, her curiosity to know what he meant with his, "Phryne will you…" already gnawing at her, but she does understand that his job is not predictable, nor does she want it to be. She enjoys the element of surprise and mystery that surrounds his job – the more glamorous parts. She knows the paperwork must be a real chore to fill out and she will happily leave that aspect to Jack's infinitely more capable hands. She allows her understanding to shine in her eyes and soften her voice as she smiles wryly, "Let me drop you back at the station Jack. It is on my way home." Nodding in response Jack proceeds to put his armor back in place as Phryne finishes the packing away and sets the wrapped tart on his kitchen table.

When they get into the foyer area, Jack stops her progress, "Phryne thank you for dinner. I was very hungry." She allows Jack to tilt her chin up so he can look into her eyes, "Still am," he breathes softly, his eyes darkening, and with that he is cradling her face with his hands and kissing her until they are both breathless again. Phryne relaxes against him, the knowledge that he doesn't want the evening to end brining great satisfaction. She must believe that eventually they will overcome fate.

When they stop kissing to breathe, Phryne nods at Jack and then opening the door they proceed out into the very early morning darkness; both all the more hungry for having been fed.


	5. Chapter 5

Touching Phryne

Thank you for your words of encouragement! I am battling work and Rocky Mountain spotted fever so I am writing slowly. I do not own these wonderful characters.

Chapter 5: Jack Shares a Childhood Memory…As Does Phryne

 **Jack**

Jack Robinson finishes shaving his face, erasing last night's stubble and taking extra care in case Miss Fisher should find a reason to run her fingers along his jaw. As he splashes the last of the lather from his face water drips down his neck and gathers in the hair on his chest dampening his singlet before he gets his towel up to dry himself. He combs his hair and applies his pomade slicking his hair into submission before moving to dress. His muscular thighs ripple as he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom, and normally Jack is oblivious to this, but today he is thinking of Phryne and wondering if he has the nerve to show her any of his muscles and whether or not she would like what she saw. These musings are consuming more of his thoughts with each passing day. "Snap out of it Robinson," he tells himself as he pulls on his trousers and shirt.

He opens the carved Red River Gum box that holds his watch, cufflinks, tie tacks and other "treasures" to retrieve his watch and cufflinks. As he pulls out his watch, a glint of silver catches his eye. Smiling slightly he pulls the small silver badge out of the box and holds it in the palm of his hand, his mind drifting back to the summer he acquired the badge. He was nine years old, and his birthday was soon to come. Jack remembers his obsession with Buffalo Bill and chuckles. Uncle Ted gave him the badge for his birthday along with some other Buffalo Bill items. He smirks again as he thinks of the fun he had while wearing the badge; he the good guy and Uncle Ted playing the bad guy that Jack must hunt down. As he allows the memory to wash over him he is struck by the fact that he wore a badge then and he wears a badge now. Clearly catching the bad guy is deeply ingrained in his psyche.

He hasn't thought about it in a long time, but he always wanted to be a lawman – he will have to tell Miss Fisher at some point that he too is living one of his childhood dreams. Dropping the badge back in the box he finishes dressing for work, fastening his cufflinks in the crisp white cuffs and then putting his watch around his wrist.

Jack hangs up the phone with a sharp click, his nose flaring slightly in disbelief. He can't believe what the Commissioner told him though the words echo in his ears. He tells Hugh the news, "I am forbidden to solve cases with a civilian." Jack attempts to work, but he just can't move past the mandate; to not have Phryne's help on a case – the man is daft! As his angry mind seeks a solution, Jack remembers words from Phryne many cases previous, "Make me an honorary constable".

Things coalesce for Jack and he get up, "I won't be long Collins," and with that he strides out of his office.

Jack moves with great purpose gathering the necessary paperwork from the file cabinet, and then remembering his Buffalo Bill badge and thinking what tangible evidence of her newly deputized status it will provide; he detours by his cottage to retrieve the badge. As he fingers the badge again, it just feels right and slipping it into his pocket he leaves for St. Kilda.

Jack arrives unannounced and bangs on the door with his best policeman's knock. Mr. Butler lets him in. "Thank you Mr. Butler."

He sees Phryne coming to the foyer and looking lovely as always. He scrutinizes her wishing he could kiss her, when he hears her excited voice, "Jack I have news. Apparently Fredrick Burn is facing a number of criminal charges."

"I'll get Collins onto it," he clips out. Jack holds up the paperwork in his hand, "Sign this."

To his pleasure Phryne doesn't hesitate and quickly signs the papers, asking curiously "What have I just agreed to?"

"You are now a special constable of the Victoria Police Force." Jack watches Phryne's eyes light up.

"How wonderful! Don't I get a certificate or something?"

Jack is not surprised by the question knowing her as he does – treasuring Janey's ribbons, the swallow pin, her Sarcelle painting – she is sentimental. Sentimental enough that she mentions having a memento or other piece of tangible evidence that he has finally given in to her desire to be "official".

He pulls the badge from his pocket, "I've been saving this since I was ten years old for Buffalo Bill but you'll have to do," and he fastens it to her lapel with great solemnity. Phryne receives it in kind though her eyes sparkle with wonder.

Shortly he is called to a death at Prudence Stanley's home where Phryne is hosting a tennis tournament. As they continue to investigate the case, Jack's amusement at finding Phryne is afraid of spiders has opportunity to be exercised after she attempts to deny her fear.

Feeling mischievous and a bit wicked Jack tickles her shoulder as he has her look elsewhere just to see what happens and to his surprise and pleasure Phryne practically leaps into his arms. Jack tightens his arms around her, her warmth seeping into him. They find themselves the subject of a photographer and he quickly releases her, although they continue to stand close together and Phryne silently cautions him, her soft finger against his lips, to say nothing Fredrick Burn can use.

 **Phryne**

Phryne breezes into the hallway when she hears Jack's knock eager to tell him her news about Mr. Burn. She finds Jack purposeful and slightly abrupt as he responds to her news.

"I'll get Collins on it. Sign this," he demands holding a piece of paper up in front of him.

Phryne signs the paper without hesitation, her trust of Jack unquestioning until after she signs, "What have I just agreed to?" she questions looking at him with frank curiosity.

"You are now a special constable with the Victoria Police Force," Jack relays.

Phryne can hardly believe her ears – they must be deceiving her – he had said "No" more than once when she mentioned it during previous cases. Blue eyes sparkling with excitement she exclaims, "How wonderful! Don't I get a certificate or something?"

Her eyes widen slightly when Jack pulls a Wild West marshal's badge from his pocket. "I've been saving this since I was ten years old for Buffalo Bill but you'll have to do."

Phryne finds she is inexplicably moved by his gesture. Completely unnecessary and yet he took time to bring her a tangible reminder of her status, and an item that clearly is meaningful to him or he wouldn't still have it all these years later.

As Jack pins the badge to her lapel she feels a bit teary and hopes he doesn't notice. Jack is very solemn in the pinning – almost like a ceremony she decides touched by the thoughtfulness of his gesture. She wants to take his hands in hers and thank him, but her household is looking on so she just gives him a look and smile of promise that will have to do for now.

Phryne leaves St. Kilda to motor to Aunt Prudence's home where she is hosting a tennis tournament. She is attending to her duties when a sudden cry echoes on the grounds, Miss Fisher, over here."

The body of Belinda Roswell, Constance Burrows' practice partner has been discovered in the quaint pool house where the ladies are changing clothes during the tournament.

Waiting for Jack is not normally Phryne's way of doing things, but today she waits.

Jack arrives, commenting drily wondering, "You showed remarkable restraint, not investigating till I arrived."

"Well, I'm happy for you to be the scout, Jack, while we wait and see what kind of wildlife we're dealing with," the tiniest tremor in her voice, unnoticeable to most with her air of relaxed indifference.

As they investigate, to Phryne's horror a spider comes crawling out of Belinda's bag. "Arggh! Spider!" Phryne cries, dropping the bag and leaping onto a bench. From the relative safety of the bench Phryne tries to still the beating of her heart. She's swept back for a moment to the cupboard and the spiders she couldn't get away from and a shudder runs through her as Jack captures the spider before it gets away. Shaking herself mentally she pulls herself back to the present to find Jack giving her a knowing glance.

"Well, I've finally found your Achilles heel, Miss Fisher - fear of arachnids," Jack's low velvety voice is laced with glee as the walk along the grounds.

"I'm not afraid, I just like to know where they are," Phryne lies bravely.

"What's that over there?" Jack asks and Phryne turns to see what he is pointing to when she feels the tickle of something on her shoulder. Phryne doesn't hesitate and jumps into Jack's arms as she shrieks in terror. Feeling his arms close protectively around her Phryne sighs slightly, his warmth seeping into her suddenly chilled bones. She feels no desire to pull away until they are rudely interrupted.

"Miss Fisher," calls Fredrick Burn his camera snapping.

"Lovely," Phryne says quietly and with total insincerity. Phryne quickly places a finger over Jack's lips. They feel firm beneath her finger and she smiles slightly her finger itching to outline them – memorize them.

"Now, look right at me," Burn continues. And both Phryne and Jack look over at him.

"Oi! Clear off!" Jack starts angrily.

"Don't say anything," Phryne admonishes very softly, "it's Fredrick Burn from The Globe."

"You're a gift, Miss Fisher," Burn calls out obnoxiously.

"Don't," Phryne presses her finger more firmly against Jack's lips feeling them quirk beneath her with the desire to give Burn a piece of his mind. Phryne's finger flexes just a tad as she trails her finger along his lip and down his chin before pulling away from him.

 **Jack**

As the investigation continues Jack contends with the advances of tennis star Angela Lombard. While flattered he has zero interest in anyone, but Phryne. Is the woman too thick to see that? Besides, she is much too forward for his taste. Phryne is considerably more subtle in her flirtations he decides. Phryne never asks him to help her with her clothes. Jack ponders this briefly as he carefully unties Angela's dress, slight disappointment at the thought filling him.

They have been so busy with the case that they haven't had time for even a nightcap, and Jack is on edge. He misses their verbal sparring and he certainly misses opportunities for possible time alone with Phryne. His hunger to touch her skin grows daily; his body reminds him regularly so he can't deny it to himself. Why just this morning he had awoken from his dreams aching with need that only Phryne can truly slake. Thus when Phryne is sitting on his desk smelling delicious and swinging her legs about, Jack nearly loses his professional mind. He decides rudeness is the better part of valor in this instance. He really can't be responsible if he doesn't get her on the other side of his desk and quickly! The thought of moving his body between her swinging legs and slaking his thirst for her touch causes him to snap and ask rudely, "Would you get off my desk please?" adding the please as a gentlemanly afterthought, thankful she can't read his thoughts and the path his fevered imagination takes. He schools his features into passivity.

"Why?" amusement colors Phryne's response.

Jack rolls his eyes internally, as if she doesn't know exactly the effect she is having on him. "Just remove yourself, Miss Fisher," Jack can't help the stiffness in his voice. It is all he can do to not act on his thoughts or put his hands on her legs to still their movement and then stroke her lovely legs allowing his long fingers to gently stroke higher and higher along her thighs.

"I'm quite comfortable Thank you." Phryne's voice is clearly annoyed by his request.

She asked for it by ignoring my request Jack fumes as he reaches under his desk for the jar containing the spider from her bedroom, one of their pieces of evidence in the case; deftly adjusting his clothing to provide needed relief in the process, and places it on his desk.

A twinge of remorse shoots through him when Phryne's face blanches and she literally leaps across the room to get away from the spider.

"Not fair Jack," she says mutinously as he places the jar and spider on his desk.

Jack agrees silently that it isn't fair that he can't have his way with her and he rolls his chair a bit further under his desk pretending calm as she takes her leave. Once she is out of his office, he returns the spider to his desk drawer and reads a report until he is sufficiently calm to continue with the investigation.

 **Phryne**

Phryne really wants to wrap this case up. They have been so busy with the case that Jack hasn't stopped by for a nightcap, and Phryne doesn't like it one little bit. She misses time alone with Jack, especially now that he is using his long, lean fingers to stroke her skin and kissing her with those to die for lips of his. Phryne is also miffed at Angela. Angela knows Jack is taken and yet still attempts to win his affection and to drive Phryne insane. Thus when Phryne is sitting on Jack's desk swinging her legs about, her entire aim is to have the much buttoned up Detective Inspector lose just a wee bit of his control. She can tell that Jack is uncomfortable as he is eyeing her from time to time and there is a very subtle shift in his body suggesting that he is growing rather warm.

"Would you get off my desk please?" While said with a please, Jack's tone borders on rude.

"Why?" Phryne can't keep the amusement out of her voice. It is just so much fun to tease him.

"Just remove yourself, Miss Fisher," Jack's stiff response comes alerting Phryne again to the fact that he is not as unaffected as he wants to appear.

Annoyed that Jack isn't playing the game with her she decides to play less fairly, "I'm quite comfortable Thank you."

Phryne thinks she may have Jack just where she wants him and is contemplating losing a shoe and running her stocking clad foot all along his hard muscular thigh until she sees from the corner of her eye that he is reaching under his desk. She glances curiously to see what he is doing; not registering immediately the jar that contains the spider from her bedroom is being pulled up into her space.

As soon as Phryne realizes what is in the jar she literally leaps across the room to stand on a chair about as far away from him as she can, "Not fair Jack."

Phryne takes her leave although she does vow silently that Jack will pay for his cheek.

 **Jack**

Jack arrives at the tennis match to find Phryne performing her duties admirably. She really is quite a woman he concedes as they review the photographs and see Constance in the background of one.

Case solved and Constance Burrows on her way to City South with Senior Constable Hugh Collins, Jack turns slightly intending to find Phryne.

"Jack," calls Angela Lombard in a commanding voice.

Jack turns to see her striding toward him, "Miss Lombard."

"Is it true - Constance killed that poor kid for her career?" Angela asks her eyes large and somewhat disbelieving.

"I'm afraid so." Jack's bass voice is filled with regret at the senselessness of it all.

"Oh, gee! I thought I played hard," the predatory tone in Angela's voice no longer hidden. "If you ever get tired of Miss Fisher and wanna play ball with me, I'll give you the best game you've ever had.

Jack smirks slightly though internally he is quite appalled by her blatantly sexual remarks, "I think we both know that's a challenge I won't be accepting. Goodbye, Miss Lombard."

Jack watches Angela saunter off and then heads to find Phryne.

"Let's play tennis Jack," Phryne wheedles. "We're both dressed perfectly for the occasion and it is a shame to let the court go to waste since we're here. I'll find you a racket."

"Very well, Miss Fisher"

Phryne finds the rackets and they take the court. Jack notices that everyone is gone now and Mrs. Stanley has returned to the main house.

As they play Jack loses himself in the game enjoying the exertion and especially enjoying watching Phryne in her tennis whites as she gracefully volleys with him. He finds himself laughing as one of her return shots sails over his head, "Oh! Oh!" he calls out trying to get to another of her shots. He really needs to concentrate on tennis and not the flashes of her legs as she plays the game he admonishes himself. Phryne is no push over on the tennis court. Not that Jack expects her to be; he has yet to find an activity that Phryne can't do…other than deal with spiders. He grins as he sets up his serve.

He watches Phryne try to get to the ball, but she can't and her tinkling laughter sweeps across the court to fill his ears with its pleasant tones.

"I aced you, Miss Fisher," Jack calls across the green expanse of grass.

"You just caught me off-guard," she does not admit defeat. "You're actually quite good, you know."

Her compliment warming him ridiculously, Jack replies with a modest, "Thank you. I learned at the police academy," as they walk over to one of the tables set up for the spectators.

"Speaking of which," he says with an edge of gravity, "there's a certain lack of attention to detail in your arrest paperwork, so I'm retiring you as my special constable."

"I see," she can't keep the disappointment out of her reply, "I suppose you'll be wanting your badge back, then," her hand fumbling to pick the badge up from the table.

"Well…no. Jack says quietly, seriously. "No, I think you've earned the badge." And reaching to take it from her hand he pins the badge to her tennis dress staring into her lovely blue eyes. He steps back just a bit then as he continues watching her moving his hands behind his back and clasping them together there. This way he won't grab her and pull her to him.

"Game, set, and murder," Phryne says playfully moving toward him just a smidgen, "murder solved."

Jack continues to stare into her eyes – mesmerized. He continues smiling at her as he takes in the deep sparkling blue of her eyes staring back into his, her bemused smile and slight sheen of perspiration gathered in the hollow of her throat and the very slight trickle between her breasts and he is lost.

He leans in closing the gap between them and kisses her. His lips move hungrily against hers as his index and middle fingers stroke the perspiration from the hollow of her throat down to rest in the center of her of her chest just above the fabric of her dress.

Reaching his other hand up he touches the bare skin of her shoulder and then gently caresses her before tracing his way down her arm and back up again, feeling her goose bumps erupt and her slight giggle against his lips before she winds her arms around his neck and draws him close her tongue hungrily seeking out the recesses of his mouth.

Jack moves his hands to stroke her back and brushes the curves of her bottom squeezing gently her firm muscles bringing to mind her athletic prowess and making him think about how strong she is before his mind ventures down other paths.

He breaks of the kiss needing air and as he realizes where they are casting his mind around for a more intimate location. Just because there had been a dead body there a few days ago wouldn't matter to Phryne and he tugs her arm into his, "Come with me."

As Phryne tucks her arm into his and they begin walking Jack thinks about the marshal's badge and tells Phryne the story of how he came to be its owner.

Hearing Phryne laugh at the tale brings laughter to Jack's lips as well, "So you see Miss Fisher, I am living at least one of my boyhood dreams though I hadn't thought of it in years."

They enter the cool of the pool house and fall into a frantic kiss. Jack can hardly think straight, but he vaguely remembers a table in the corner of the room and guides them there. He gently lifts Phryne onto the table and then moves to stand between her parted legs rucking the skirt of her tennis dress up her legs until he gets to the under slip. Jack pauses for a moment debating. Phryne crashes her lips to his and her moan drives all other thoughts from his mind. While returning her kiss with a groan of his own, he fondles her legs, touching her from ankle to the top of her knees.

Jack finally breaks the kiss and allows his forehead to rest against Phryne's his breathing harsh though his hands do not stop learning the contours of her legs.

"Phryne, I want," what Jack wants is cut off by a screech of terror and Phryne launching herself off the table and into his arms her legs wrapping tightly around him, her body quivering.

"Spiders," she whispers in terror, her face now buried in his neck, clinging to him like a limpet, "spiders in the cupboard; crawling on me. Please, take me home, Jack"

Jack sees a couple of spiders scuttling across the table and nods, rubbing her back soothingly attempting to ignore just how close their bodies are now and how her dress is hiked practically around her waist, as well as her inadvertent admission and the spark of anger at the Baron it brings. "We'll go home," he rasps giving in and allowing her to rest tightly against his thighs as he moves them out of the pool house.

Jack sets Phryne on her feet just outside the pool house door and holds her while she calms, peppering soft kisses across her cheeks and eyes, murmuring words of comfort. Then he hears a muffled noise of frustration and sees a moue of annoyance crossing her kiss swollen lips. Clearly she has pushed her arachnid fear away and Jack steps back a pace.

"What is it?"

"We have to have dinner with Aunt P because of the tennis tournament. We barely have time to bathe and change as it is. As they say Jack, time does fly…"

Jack heaves out a heavy growling sigh and he is fairly sure the moue on his lips will still be there when they sit down to dinner. He sincerely hopes Mrs. Stanley has not seated him next to Angela Lombard, but with the way fate continues to intervene, he better make sure.

"Miss Fisher, please make sure I don't sit next to Angela Lombard. I am not certain she understands the word No," Jack drawls, unconsciously tightening his hold on the hand tucked into his elbow.

Phryne's light laughter fills the air around them as they walk back toward the house, "Darling Jack, I will put Dot on the case."

Relieved Jack leaves her in the foyer and moves to the guest quarters to clean up and change for dinner.

 **Phryne**

Phryne is busy performing her tournament duties when Jack arrives. As soon as she can she draws him away to review the photographs and see that Constance is in the background of one.

While Jack and Hugh handle the arrest of Constance Burrows Phryne returns to her duties.

Seeing Angela Lombard smirking her way back toward her, Phryne braces for the encounter she knows is coming.

"That Inspector of yours is a real man, Miss Fisher. I certainly plan to play ball with him someday soon," Angela says lightly the predatory gleam in her eyes noted by Phryne.

"Turned you down did he?" Tossing her head Phryne tamps down the jealousy Angela brings out in her and instead thinks about Jack's honor. Angela is completely out of her league with Jack though she may be fool enough not to know it. She really can't blame Angela for wanting Jack – what woman could look at the man and not drool? The voice, the hands, the slim, muscular body, and as Phryne is deeply aware, the caring friend, quick-wit, dry humor and slow quirking smile that are only a fraction of who and what Jack Robinson is.

Angela huffs off, but the gleam remains and Phryne stares after her until she disappears.

When Jack finally returns, the grounds are almost clear, "Collins has everything under control."

"Let's play tennis Jack," Phryne wheedles. "We're both dressed perfectly for the occasion and it is a shame to let the court go to waste since we are here. I'll find you a racket."

"Very well, Miss Fisher," he replies resignedly.

Phryne finds the rackets and they take the court. As they play Phryne loses herself in the game enjoying the exertion and especially enjoying watching jack in his tennis whites as he powerfully volleys with her. She finds herself laughing with him as one of her return shots sails over his head.

She hears Jack calling "Oh! Oh!" as he tries to get to another of her shots. She really needs to concentrate on tennis and not the muscles of his legs as his trousers pull across his powerful thighs from time to time if she wants to best him in this little match. Jack is no clearly stranger to the tennis court. Phryne is slightly surprised since Jack has never mentioned tennis as something he enjoys, unlike his bicycle which he does chat about on a regular basis. "That reminds me" she thinks absently, "I need to get that cycling magazine ordered for him".

Phryne prepares for Jack's serve fascinated by the movement of his lithe body. Her distraction with his body proves to be her downfall as Jack neatly aces her. Phryne can't really be angry, though she does love to win, because having the opportunity to just watch him is rare and her tinkling laughter sweeps across the court. She moves gracefully toward him.

"I aced you, Miss Fisher," she hears Jack's excited call.

Unwilling to totally concede to him she says playfully, "You just caught me off-guard. You're actually quite good, you know."

"Thank you. I learned at the police academy."

Phryne wonders very briefly about it, but decides not to ask more questions about the physical fitness activities at the academy at the present time.

"Speaking of which," she hears an edge of gravity in the deep rich voice, "there's a certain lack of attention to detail in your arrest paperwork, so I'm retiring you as my special constable."

"I see," Phryne's insides fall and she lays down her racket to retrieve the badge, disappointment clawing at her, "I suppose you'll be wanting your badge back, then." She can't stop her hand from trembling slightly and fumbling as she picks the badge up from the table and holds it out to him.

Jack steps closer, "Well…no," his voice is quiet and serious. "No, I think you've earned the badge."

To her delight he takes the badge from her hand and pins it to her tennis dress all the while staring into her eyes except as he makes sure the badge is properly affixed to her dress. Smiling sweetly as he steps back just a bit and moves his hands behind his back, Phryne gazes back at him with unabashed pleasure at his gesture. Wanting to ease the building tension she pronounces "Game, set, and murder," she tilts her head up slightly, but deliberately, "murder solved."

Phryne continues to stare into his lighter blue eyes – mesmerized; smiling bemusedly up at him. Ignoring slight gathering of perspiration in the hollow of her throat and the very slight trickle between her breasts, she is perfectly still; the moment magical. What is it she sees flickering in his eyes? Desire, no doubt; passion, yes; fear, a bit; and something else that she hasn't seen in any man's eyes glimmer back at her as she watches.

Jack leans in closing the gap between them and then to her astonishment he kisses her. His lips move hungrily against hers and she feels the shock of his warm index and middle fingers stroking the perspiration from the hollow of her throat and trailing down to rest in the center of her of her chest just above the fabric of her dress.

Feeling slightly giddy Phryne's eyes close her lashes sweeping her cheeks as she kisses him hungrily in return wishing he would slide his fingers lower yet. Warmth flooding through her and pooling at her center, she relaxes into the mastery of his exquisite lips.

Another jolt runs through her deepening the ache inside her as Jack touches the bare skin of her shoulder and then gently caresses her before tracing his way down her arm and back up again. Phryne erupts in goose bumps as she arches delicately into his touch. She giggles a just barely there giggle against his lips at the sensations his touch along her arm bring. Then winding her arms around his neck she draws him closer her tongue hungrily seeking out the recesses of his mouth. He tastes so good that she has no desire to stop devouring him.

When Jack moves his hands to stroke her back and brushes the curves of her bottom squeezing gently Phryne pushes into his hands. Rather suddenly to her way of thinking as her bones are melting, Jack breaks off the kiss dragging air into his lungs.

"Come with me," he commands taking her arm and tucking it into his elbow.

Phryne tucks her arm into his and they begin walking. Phryne finds this change particularly difficult although when she thinks of the number of eyes upon them from her Aunt's windows and Fredrick Burn is likely around somewhere as well.

As they walk Jack tells Phryne the story of how he came to be the owner of a Buffalo Bill marshal's badge. Phryne laughs, eyes sparkling merrily at the tale picturing young Jack and his Uncle Ted playing and Jack always being the good guy. Hearing Jack laugh warms her heart and she squeezes his arm.

"So you see Miss Fisher, I am living at least one of my boyhood dreams though I hadn't thought of it in years."

Simpering coquettishly Phryne plans their nightcap, "We will toast that very soon, Jack," though she says nothing aloud.

They enter the cool of the pool house and fall into a frantic kiss. What a relief Phryne thinks sinking into his kiss, the feel of his lips on hers intoxicating. She feels Jack guiding them across the room. She bumps lightly into the table and she catches her breath as Jack gently lifts her onto the table and then moves to stand between her parted legs rucking the skirt of her tennis dress up her legs until he gets to the under slip. She feels him pause and knowing Jack she knows he is thinking about doing the right thing. Not this time Inspector, she decides and she crushes her lips to his moaning her need into his mouth. She feels Jack respond, reveling in the groan of surrender she hears. Phryne pulls him closer as he begins fondling her legs, touching her from ankle to the top of her knees. Please don't stop her mind and body beg silently though her response is to communicate her need with lips and tongue. There is still too much space between them. She tugs harder on his shoulders.

Jack stops kissing her and allows his forehead to rest against Phryne's his heavy breathing harsh in the quiet room. To her delight his hands do not stop learning the contours of her legs so she waits patiently for him to speak.

"Phryne, I want," she hears no more as a scuttling movement catches her eye. She can't stop her screech of terror. Instinctively launching herself from the table and into his arms, her legs wrapping tightly around him, her body quivering as she holds on to him. Her thoughts are an incoherent jumble.

"Spiders," she whispers in terror, burying her face in his neck, clinging to him, "spiders in the cupboard; crawling on me. Please, take me home, Jack"

Holding her he nods rubbing her back soothingly, "We'll go home," he rasps and she feels him allow her body to rest tightly against his thighs as he moves them out of the pool house. Her fear is such that she barely registers his hard length pushing intimately against her.

As Jack sets her on her feet just outside the pool house door her dress falls back into place and Phryne is grateful for his strength as he continues to hold her while she calms. She feels the very gentle peppering of soft kisses across her cheeks and eyes, hears the murmured words of comfort. As Phryne calms and comes back to herself she realizes where they are which means they can't go home. Releasing a muffled noise of frustration against his shoulder, a moue of annoyance crossing her kiss swollen lips, Phryne looks up at Jack.

Jack steps back a pace, "What is it?" he asks still seeing fear and passion in her eyes, and perhaps now a hint of frustration.

"We have to have dinner with Aunt P because of the tennis tournament. We barely have time to bathe and change. As they say Jack, time does fly…," Phryne explains hurriedly, her frustration causing the edge in her voice even though she tries to be flip. She wants nothing more at this moment than to go home with Jack and continue what once again fate interrupted.

Phryne hears Jack heave out a heavy growling sigh and notes with inward glee the moue on his lips. So, he is just as frustrated as she is which is a most excellent development and almost redeems the moment.

They start back toward the house Jack holding her hand to his elbow. Slowing Jack stops completely. Phryne looks at him a question on her lips.

"Miss Fisher, please make sure I don't sit next to Angela Lombard. I am not certain she understands the word No," Jack drawls, an unnerved tone in his voice as he tightens his hold on her hand.

Carefully controlling her displeasure at the mention of Angela, thinking briefly that she may never share with Jack just what she said he could do with his teeth, Phryne laughs lightly as they walk back toward the house, "Darling Jack, I will put Dot on the case."

And put Dot on the case she did, immediately upon their return to the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Touching Phryne

Thank you for your reviews and for adding this story to your favorites and following me on this journey.

Chapter 6: Changes

 **Phryne**

Phryne's sleep is disturbed. Her body and her mind fixed on one man and no matter what she does, dancing till all hours, reading, drinking, dallying with other men, she can't get past the fact that she needs him and that he brings out feelings in her that she's been trying to bury for years – a desire to be vulnerable, to actually give herself to another – not her body, but her heart, her soul. She thrashes her pale peach silk pajama clad legs becoming tangled in dark purple sheets of the softest cotton. Still she doesn't wake, but if anyone were watching they would know that she is in the midst of a nightmare. The expressions of fear and uncertainty flicker across her face as she sleeps and for someone very close at hand, the softest muttering of a name can be discerned. "Jack…"

"Miss, Miss Fisher, wake up," Mr. Butler calls knocking on the door, "it's time to get ready to fly."

Frowning still as she wakes, she is unsettled, but doing what she must. Her mind goes continually to the events of the last few days as she prepares to fly her Father back to her Mother, back to England and away from everyone she loves – the one she dreams about. Leaving with things unsaid is frightening as the journey will be fraught with perils, although her decision to fly rather than waiting for another ship is so she can get her father to England quickly and return home just as quickly. As frightening as leaving things unsaid between them is, it is more terrifying to actually share out loud with Jack just how she truly feels. "Why can't he understand?" she questions the drawn face in the mirror.

As she continues her preparations in the gray dawn, she purposely pushes thoughts of Jack to the back of her mind and ignores the ache that she has in her heart and…well best not dwell there when she can do nothing at this point to relieve either.

 **Jack**

Jack too is caught in the midst of a nightmare in his lonely bed in his small cottage. This time he can't get to her before Sydney Fletcher shoots her. He twists and turns losing the covers completely, his naked body covered in sweat as the scene in his mind shifts to another, Phryne telling him she must take her father to England. Her earnestness as she tries to explain that she feels obligated for her mother's sake to make sure the Baron returns, her eyes begging for his understanding, but Jack doesn't give it. He can't. He can't live without seeing her for more than a few days between cases as is, and now that he knows the feel of her kiss, the taste of her mouth, the press of her legs around his waist, how her smooth legs feel beneath his hands, the soft velvety skin of her breasts as he brushes his fingers along her sides. How can she not know this? How can she ask him to understand? His body responds to his dreams, and he twists yet again, the hard angles of his body juxtaposed against the white starched sheets. An impressive male specimen with his broad shoulders and narrow waist, strongly muscled thighs and long legs, tousled hair falling across his forehead, long eyelashes resting against the planes of his cheeks, his beauty is marred only by the frown on his face. Jack turns again, muttering, left arm flung over his head and his right hand coming to rest at the top of his thigh. His mumbling continues and he moves restlessly, and should someone invade his privacy they would hear through the gravel of his sleep thickened voice the unmistakable plea, "Phryne…"

Jack's eyes snap open. He is disoriented, not used to waking nude, covered in sweat. The light filtering in his window tells him it is very early, very early indeed. As he lay there thinking, flashes of his dreams come to him and he feels the heavy mantle of loss fall across him like his winter comforter. He remembers the utter sadness in her eyes as she practically begged him to understand and the hurt when he refused. Swallowing convulsively, rubbing at the tears he doesn't even realize are gathered in the corners of his pale blue eyes Jack comes to a decision.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring his body's demand for release, he grabs his robe and heads for the shower. Taking a look at the watch lying on top of the carved Red River Gum Box as he walks by, he feels a frisson of fear. He hasn't much time.

 _Two Days Earlier…._

 **Phryne**

"Turn off your torch, Jack. If it's still glowing, we'll see it."

Jack nods to her turning off the torch and plunging them into near darkness other than the moon and stars and the faint light from the Institute.

As they wander, Phryne can't help the feeling of despair that needs expression, "Oh, Jack, what if it's my fault? What if I drove my father away? I railed against him. What if, what if something happens and I never see him again?" She stops tears threatening.

"Whatever happens to your father, it's not your fault, and nothing is going to happen," Jack's soothing and confident tone reassures."

Letting a groan escape her even though Jack's soothing words are a balm, she ventures, "Perhaps he has just headed back to England after all."

"Well, if it's all expanding, England will move further away," Jack's philosophical thought spoken aloud as they look into the heavens, standing side by side so close they are nearly touching and Phryne feels his heat warming her arm.

"But it all looks very still to me," Phryne states feeling raw and a bit fatalistic.

"That's because you're not a telescope," he responds still looking up.

Phryne's brain kicks into high gear. Is he insulting her or teasing her? What does he mean, "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"More like a romantic overture," Jack's silky voice replies.

Phryne's brain cannot process what she heard. He has never used the term romance or romantic in any of their conversations or encounters, so she opts for teasing humor just in case, "Is that the best that you can do?"

To her amazement Jack voice deepens even more as he responds, "Would you like me to improve on it?"

Phryne lets out a breath and opts for truth this time, "More than anything."

Phryne holds her breath as Jack turns and pulls her close to him. He is going to kiss her, not out of desire, but as a romantic gesture, another declaration of intent and Phryne finds she is ready for it. As she is closing her eyes and his head is descending towards hers, she sees a flash of blue. "Jack. Behind you," she says excitedly, kiss forgotten.

 **Jack**

As they return to the institute to see if they can find the polonium, For once Jack's pride in Collins can't be stifled, "Good work Collins. We'll have a look around here."

As he and Phryne begin their walk of the grounds he lets the torch light the way forward.

"Turn off your torch, Jack. If it's still glowing, we'll see it," Phryne's instruction makes perfect sense and nodding Jack turns of the torch.

The darkness brings out his desire to be nearer to her. He can feel her agitation. It is rolling off of her in waves.

"Oh, Jack, what if it's my fault? What if I drove my father away? I railed against him. What if, what if something happens and I never see him again?"

He hears the tears in her voice and the despair. He has only heard that tone one other time and he wants to take her in his arms and soothe away her concerns under his kiss. Instead he says soothingly very sure of his response, "Whatever happens to your father, it's not your fault, and nothing is going to happen."

He hears Phryne groan and is nearly overwhelmed with the desire to pull her close as she says "Perhaps he has just headed back to England after all."

Seized by a need to further reassure her Jack expresses a thought they had seen in all of the papers when they were investigating the murder at the Institute, "Well, if it's all expanding, England will move further away." They are standing side by side looking up at the sky and Jack moves almost imperceptibly closer to her side so they are nearly touching.

"But it all looks very still to me," Phryne says in a raw voice.

"That's because you're not a telescope." Jack nearly bites his tongue. Where did that come from? What drongo says that to a woman? Get it together man!

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" her hears the amused disbelief in her question.

Before he chickens out Jack replies silkily, "More like a romantic overture."

He hears her humorous response and can't really blame her, "Is that the best that you can do?"

"Would you like me to improve on it?" Jack asks thickly, again before he can think too much.

Jack hears words for which he has been waiting years now, a soft, "More than anything."

Turning toward her, Jack begins to pull her to him intent on kissing her. Just as he dips his head, his eyes on her delicate lips, Phryne turns her head away slightly.

"Jack. Behind you," Phryne's excitement is contagious and he turns to see the blue glow of the evidence they are searching for.

 _One Day Ago_

 **Phryne**

The events of this day have been harrowing. Dot nearly shot; her father finally explaining the details to everyone about his cousin; her rash decision to fly her father home. And as if those things weren't enough Dot and Hugh's decision to wed immediately throws another twist into the mix.

Phryne is moved nearly to tears that Dot is rushing her wedding just so she can be there since it means a very hurried affair, and when Dot asks her to give her away, well, Phryne pulls Dot into a hug just so she doesn't see her tears. Phryne believes Dot is the prettiest bride ever and Hugh will be dashing and handsome. They really are the perfect couple she muses as she and Dot prepare for the wedding, helping each other dress and giggling like school girls.

As they stand in the back of the church waiting to walk down the aisle, Phryne checks on Dot giving her a last chance to back out, "So, Dot, are you ready for your biggest adventure?"

"I won't even close my eyes, Miss," responds Dot in a slightly breathless and excited, yet serious voice.

Phryne can tell Dot really does understand the enormity of what she is undertaking. In that moment Phryne thinks back to a conversation held with Dot many months ago, when Dot wasn't so sure of marriage and how upset she had been that Hugh would have all the say in the relationship. Phryne says a silent prayer of thanks that Hugh has realized that things can be different and "that's the way Hugh sees it" includes allowing Dot to continue on as her assistant, not because it indicates he can't provide for them, but because Dot enjoys it and she is an excellent sleuth. Phryne grins at Dot and offering her arm they walk down the aisle to where Hugh waits.

The wedding goes off without a hitch and Dot and Hugh are glowing with love and pride as Father O'Leary announces them.

As they are leaving the church amid the congratulations of everyone, Dot hugs Phryne and confesses just a bit of how important her Miss is to her, "When I came to work for you, Miss, I was afraid of everything and you taught me so many things and made me brave and you made me happy. Please come back safely."

Not often at a loss for words all Phryne can spit out is, "Oh, Dot," as once again she blinks back tears. Dot is so much like she imagines Janey would have been like – kind, sweet and loving – pretty on the outside and on the inside.

The entire crew come to Phryne's for a celebration of Dot and Hugh after the service. They toast the happy couple and enjoy a buffet dinner compliments of Mr. Butler's deft hand, even though Hugh and Dot are well on their way to their honeymoon destination.

Phryne grins briefly as she remembers the conversations she and Dot had regarding the marriage bed and their discussion that just like she had asked Hugh to the Fireman and Policeman's Ball Dot can teach him about her body and they can learn together. Phryne hasn't asked Jack about it yet, but she suspects he has had a word with Hugh on the subject as well. She wonders briefly what it might be like for them, both virgins, to discover each other with no preconceived notions of how things should be. Phryne smirks as she ponders the conversations that might follow and catches Jack eyeing her from his usual spot at the parlor doorway. She pulls herself from her musings and makes her rounds as hostess, her gold gown shimmering around her.

Finally the group dwindles until it is just Jack and Phryne. Jack is now at the piano playing softly.

"Well Inspector, another murder solved." She joins him on the piano bench very conscious of her thigh pressed against his, the gold material and beading in sharp contrast to the black of his trousers.

He keeps playing, his fingers shaking slightly, not looking at her.

"Jack, you do know I don't want to go?" she says turning slightly toward him, trying to keep her voice even, but it is hard when he is studiously avoiding her gaze.

"Why **are** you going Miss Fisher?" his deep voice is a bit scratchy as he asks the question.

"For all his faults he is my Father, and my Mother clearly loves him. And he assures me he loves her as well. This is the only way I know to make sure he makes it home with his fortune intact. He is easily distracted."

"I just thought...," Jack abruptly rises from the bench. "I should go. It's late, Miss Fisher. You need to get some sleep."

"Thought what, Jack?" Phryne rises to follow him her blue eyes shimmering suspiciously.

"I thought you wanted this," and to her amazement he turns to her and reaches out his hand to cup her face, his fingertips feather light as they brush along her jaw. As she waits transfixed he pulls her into a deep searing kiss. Jack plunders her mouth demanding entrance and holds her so tightly to him that she can hardly breathe.

He kisses her until she is whimpering with need and she will likely have bruises on her fair skin from his tight hold, but she just wants to be closer to him. She pulls his jacket from his shoulders impatient with need to feel more of him. Pulling his shirt out of his trousers, she hears him groan and boldly she runs her hands along his back and his stomach and up to his chest. He is warm, and she can feel the pounding of his heart. Knowing she is doing this to him gives her a heady sense of satisfaction. She feels his moan against her mouth, feels him mold his hands around the curves of her bottom pulling her squarely against his erection. He holds her there with one hand and with the other he slips the strap of her golden gown off of her shoulder baring the expanse of creamy skin to it his gaze. Phryne sees his eyes darken and she lets her head fall back further exposing her slender neck to him. Her hands are gripping his sides and her fingers dig into his skin as his lips and fingers begin stroking a path from her earlobe down her neck and across the expanse of chest to hover just above the edge of the dress dangerously close to where her breast is barely covered.

"Why can't you send a telegram to your mother and put him on the next boat?" Jack growls causing Phryne to jump slightly and push her barely covered breast into his mouth.

Panting slightly, noting that he hasn't moved his mouth and her body electrified with awareness of just what his mouth could be doing, "If I thought my Father could behave between now and when the next ship leaves port, I would consider it. You've observed my Father's inability to stay out of trouble. He loves gambling far too much."

Phryne heaves a sigh causing her breast to move across Jack's mouth which is torturously delicious, "I've already put him on one boat and he managed to get off even though I watched him up the gangplank and saw his ticket taken. Please understand Jack."

She feels him move back slightly although he is still holding her bottom tightly to him, "I don't, Phryne. You're doing this because you feel guilty. Admit it."

"It really is a side issue whether or not I feel guilty. I can't stand by and see two people who love each other separated when I have the means to bring them together," she says drawing herself up to her full height and letting her hands slide down his sides to rest on his hips. "I thought you of all people would understand." She raises cobalt blue eyes to his seeking reassurance, but finding none. She feels him withdrawing from her his eyes now shuttered against her, "Please Jack," she practically begs.

Jack is looking at her. Phryne can only imagine how she must look – lips kiss swollen and her dress half off, her hair mussed. Will this be the night Jack finally gives in to his desires? She barely breathes sensing the battle within him.

"Phryne, I can't. I don't understand," and with that he lifts her strap back up over her shoulder, removes her hands from his hips, and stepping back from her reaches down and grabs his jacket from the floor and then strides from the room.

Phryne is stunned. The tears begin to gather, but she shakes them off as she hears the front door close. "I will **not** cry," she admonishes herself. "If Jack Robinson is not keen enough on me to understand why I must get my Father home then I wash my hands of him," but she can't stop the tear that escapes leaving a lonely track down the side of her face.

Squaring her shoulders, she resolutely marches upstairs and falls into her bed. Sleep does not come easily and at one point she stares out of her window into the night watching heat lightning race across the sky wondering if the universe really is expanding.

 **Jack**

The day has been eventful. Dot nearly shot; Phryne's father finally explaining the details about his cousin, Phryne's plan to fly her father home. And as if those things weren't enough Dot and Hugh's decision to wed immediately throws yet another activity onto his plate.

Jack spends the hours between the decision to wed today and the actual ceremony with Hugh. The boy needs a steady hand; he is so nervous.

"I miss my Father, Sir," Hugh says at one point, "thank you for staying with me."

"As it happens, Collins, you and Dot are rather special to me," Jack admits gruffly.

Hugh's grin warms Jack's heart.

"As you are to us," says Hugh. "Um, Inspector since my Father isn't here to talk to me about our wedding night could ah, you, um…," his voice trails off in embarrassment.

"Of course," Jack replies his mind racing to determine the best way to talk with Hugh. He remembers what his own Father told him, that there is more to sexual intercourse than a man's satisfaction, that making sure she is pleasured will increase his own pleasure and how his Father had gone on to explain just exactly how to proceed. Chuckling softly at his memories he realizes that _Erotica of the Far East_ has nothing on his Father.

"Sir?" Hugh's embarrassed and questioning voice penetrates his memories.

"Sorry Collins, I was lost in memories of a similar conversation when I was preparing for my wedding."

"I understand," Hugh whispers his boyish grin lighting up his face.

Sensing a serious and sacred moment between them, Jack begins explaining the difference between sex and making love and as the conversation progresses, Hugh asks questions and clarifies his thoughts and Jack is finally satisfied that Dot will be in very good hands with his Constable.

"Inspector, do you think Dot will understand?" Hugh asks, concern lacing his voice. "I don't want to hurt her."

"Well, Collins, I can't be sure, but knowing Miss Fisher as we do, can you imagine her leaving Dottie to fend for herself when she possesses knowledge of a helpful nature?"

Grinning now with relief and anticipation Hugh responds happily, "No sir, I can't!"

Jack shakes Hugh's hand as he leaves him at the front of the church and takes his seat. He saw the ladies briefly as he made sure they were secreted away from Hugh's view. He must admit both of them are stunning. Dottie a picture of innocence in her wedding gown and Phryne's golden gown gorgeous, and rather than taking away from Dot, it is almost as if there is a golden glow around both of them. As jack waits for the ceremony to begin, his body tingles as he thinks of how beautiful Phryne looks today and he ponders how fitting it is that she walk Dot down the aisle. Dot is no longer the timid, fearful girl he took in for questioning in John Andrews' murder investigation. Under Phryne's tutelage she is strong and brave and wise. For all her modern woman ways, Jack has to admit that Phryne has been a positive influence on Dot – really on all of them truth be told.

The wedding goes off without a hitch and Dot and Hugh are glowing with love and pride as Father O'Leary announces them. Jack can't help but glow with pride as he observes the two of them.

Jack goes to Phryne's for a celebration of Dot and Hugh after the service along with the rest of the crew. Even though Hugh and Dot are well on their way to their honeymoon destination they toast the happy couple and enjoy a buffet dinner complete with Jack's favorite ham, cheese and mustard pickle sandwiches.

Finally the group dwindles until it is just Jack and Phryne. Jack plays the piano softly, picking out the notes of music from the wedding.

He feels Phryne's warmth as she joins him at the piano very conscious of her thigh pressed against his, the gold material and beading of her dress in sharp contrast to the black of his trousers. "Well Inspector, another murder solved," she says triumphantly

He keeps playing, his fingers shaking slightly, not looking at her.

"Jack, you do know I don't want to go?" he hears her slightly uneven voice say as she turns slightly toward him. Jack studiously avoids her gaze.

"Why **are** you going Miss Fisher?" his deep voice is a bit scratchy as he asks the question that he is unable to bite back.

Phryne's response doesn't surprise him based on his knowledge of her and the Baron.

"For all his faults he is my Father, and my Mother clearly loves him. And he assures me he loves her as well. This is the only way I know to make sure he makes it home with his fortune intact. He is easily distracted."

Jack can't stand it. Her thigh pressing against him is maddening. He rises abruptly, "I just thought...," he starts and then stops sighing and running his hands into his pockets. "I should go. It's late, Miss Fisher. You need to get some sleep."

He senses her rise and follow him, "Thought what, Jack?" she asks.

Before he allows himself to think, before he can change his mind Jack turns to her and reaches out his hand to cup her face, keeping his fingertips feather light as they brush along her jaw, "I thought you wanted this." He pulls her into a deep searing kiss plundering her mouth, demanding entrance and holding her so tightly to him he fears he may bruise her but he can't let go. He feels like he is drowning and she is his lifeline.

He continues kissing her and he hears her whimpering with need against his lips. He feels her push his jacket off of his shoulders and he lets it slide to the floor. He wants to be closer to her as well. When Phryne pulls his shirt out of his trousers, he can't stifle his groan as she runs her hands along his back and his stomach and up to his chest. His body heats up and his heart pounds violently in his chest. Jack moans against her mouth, and molds his hands around the curves of her bottom pulling her squarely against his erection. So good, she feels so good. He holds her to him with one large hand and with the other he slips the strap of her golden gown off of her shoulder baring the expanse of creamy skin to it his gaze. Eyes darkening he watches as Phryne lets her head fall back further exposing her slender neck to him. Her hands are gripping his sides and her fingers dig into his skin as his lips and fingers begin stroking a path from her earlobe down her neck and across the expanse of chest to hover just above the edge of the dress dangerously close to where her breast is barely covered. The temptation to pull her dress down around her waist and feast on her luscious breasts nearly breaks him.

Instead he asks a burning question, "Why can't you send a telegram to your mother and put him on the next boat?" As Jack growls, Phryne jumps slightly which pushes her barely covered breast into his mouth. Jack still fights the fire raging within him, not wanting to lose control, yet wanting to lose control very much.

He feels Phryne panting slightly, the movement of her breast against his lips sheer torture, but Jack doesn't move his mouth from her.

"If I thought my Father could behave between now and when the next ship leaves port, I would consider it. You've observed my Father's inability to stay out of trouble. He loves gambling far too much."

Phryne heaves a sigh which causes her breast to move across Jack's mouth even more forcefully giving him the urge to bite down on her – gently of course!

"I've already put him on one boat and he managed to get off even though I watched him up the gangplank and saw his ticket taken. Please understand Jack."

Jack moves back slightly although he still holds her bottom tightly to him, his voice rasping and raw, "I don't, Phryne. You're doing this because you feel guilty. Admit it."

"It really is a side issue whether or not I feel guilty. I can't stand by and see two people who love each other separated when I have the means to bring them together," she says drawing herself up to her full height and letting her hands slide down his sides to rest on his hips. "I thought you of all people would understand."

She raises her cobalt blue eyes to his seeking reassurance, but Jack can't give it. He withdraws from her his eyes shuttering against her. He can't believe what she is saying to him. Does she even comprehend what she is saying? She can't let her parents be separated, but she is willing to be separated from him? Jack wants to shout this at her, but he knows it is futile.

"Please Jack," her voice is soft and borders on begging. He doesn't want to hear it.

Looking at her, taking in her kiss swollen lips, the skin exposed by her undone dress, her mussed hair. He knows he has never seen anyone look more beautiful or desirable in his entire life. Jack battles the passion coursing through him, the desire to push her to the floor and ravish her in the middle of the parlor gaining ground, but then her words echo in his mind, "I can't stand by and see two people who love each other separated when I have the means to bring them together"…she may as well have added "except for you, Inspector" to the end of the sentence.

"Phryne, I can't. I don't understand," his voice so deep it is almost painful and with that he lifts her strap back up over her shoulder, removes her hands from his hips, and steps back from her. Jack reaches down and grabs his jacket from the floor and then strides from the room before he changes his mind; before he allows her to have another piece of his heart to break.

Jack doesn't even bother to tuck in his shirt. He just needs to escape before he makes an utter and complete fool of himself.

He stumbles to his car and arrives at his door with no memory of the drive. He fumbles with his key and finally gets into the house, noticing as he does the jagged lines of heat lightning breaking the dark of the sky. He walks in a trance to his room, strips off his clothes and falls onto the sheets naked, not bothering with pajamas. Sleep eludes him for some time and England seems as far away as the stars winking outside his window.

 **Phryne**

Once Phryne is up and dressed and has taken a bit of toast, she feels more herself. Her heart hurts, but she isn't allowing her mind to dwell there. She goes through her notes and they leave for the airfield. Driving the Hispano Suiza allows her to vent some of her feelings and both her father and Mr. Butler dare not speak to her about her speed. They just hold tight to their hats.

Phryne inspects the plane as her father and Mr. Butler wait. Once Phryne gives the go ahead Mr. Butler leaves for the hangar.

"Ready, Father?" she finally asks.

"No. We're going to die!" Henry Fisher doesn't hold back his lack of enthusiasm for her chosen mode of transportation.

Phryne rolls her eyes, "There's no point getting upset in the air. It's a very unforgiving element," she says cheerily.

She climbs into the plane and prepares for flight calling, "Contact," to her Father when she is ready.

The plane roars to life, the engine throbbing smoothly and Phryne feels a modicum of excitement for the first time since she made the decision to fly, "Get in," she calls to her father.

As her father is getting in and getting settled, Phryne looks up to see a car racing toward them. She recognizes the car almost instantly, "Jack!" and for the first time since Dot's wedding she feels a smile forming on her luscious lips. Phryne immediately begins climbing out of the plane.

"What are you doing?" her father asks in dismay, "Phryne?"

Phryne begins walking toward Jack as he rolls the car to a stop some distance away from the plane and gets out. She watches him start toward her, and then he is running and she is running and they meet in the middle.

"Flying all the way to England in that?" Jack asks her eyeing the plane with dismay that he can't quite conceal.

"It's the only way I can make sure he'll get there," she says by way of explanation yet again.

She hears the Baron yelling, "For God's sake! What if this thing takes off?"

She ignores him completely instead focusing on Jack, staring into his blue eyes, seeing the question there. She takes the plunge this time knowing somehow that she must, "Come after me," her soft entreaty breaches the gap between them.

She sees the widening of his eyes and the slight disbelief there, "What did you say?" Jack asks thickly.

She is practically bubbling with joy now, "It was a romantic overture."

She notes him processing the information, "Say it again," his deep voice demands.

She obliges, understanding his need for reassurance, "Come after me, Jack Robinson."

Jack doesn't hesitate again. He pulls her into a kiss and Phryne pours all of her desire for him and trust of him into the kiss. It may be their sweetest yet she thinks as she holds his waist through his overcoat.

Vaguely Phryne hears her Father again, "When you two have quite finished."

Jack breaks off the kiss, "I always feared another man would sweep you away from me. I never thought it'd be your father."

Phryne can't resist her cheeky reply, after all he deserves it after what he put her through last night, "There's a whole world out there, Jack. He's the least of your worries!"

Pity her Father is here and there isn't time to ravish him before she leaves. What she wouldn't give to spend some more time doing just what they are doing now. A twinkle of promise in her eyes she gives him one last look and heads back to the plane knowing that the sooner she leaves the sooner she can return home. Yes, she thinks as she climbs back into the plane and takes off, giving Jack a wave and a dip of the plane's wings. Australia and Jack are definitely home now, no matter where else she may roam or whom she may meet along the way.

Has she said enough and left just enough unsaid to bring him to her in England? Only time will tell, but the butterflies dancing in her stomach certainly hope she has an opportunity to say with her feet in England, when he asks how she is, "All the better for seeing you Jack," before she sweeps him away.

 **Jack**

Jack showers, shaves and dresses quickly before heading out the door. He almost never breaks the speed limit unless he is chasing criminals, but today he glances at his watch and presses the accelerator to the floor. He must get there before she takes off. He thinks as he drives about what he will say when he gets there. It is all so jumbled in his head what he wants to say versus what he is willing to say.

As he races toward the air field, he lets out a grunt of victory. He made it. Now, is he in time to talk with her before she takes off? He rolls the car to a stop wanting to get out so she will know for certain it is him. He gets out and starts toward her, seeing that she has climbed out of the plane and is moving toward him. Jack begins running to her and then she is running to him. They meet in the middle. Jack thinks happily that is as it should be. He takes it as a positive sign of her feelings.

"Flying all the way to England in that?" Jack asks her eyeing the plane with dismay that he hopes isn't showing on his face.

"It's the only way I can make sure he'll get there," he hears Phryne say yet again.

He hears the Baron yelling, "For God's sake! What if this thing takes off?"

He ignores the Baron completely instead focusing on Phryne, staring into her deeply blue eyes, seeing the light of promise there.

"Come after me," her soft entreaty breaches the gap between them.

Jack's eyes widen slightly in disbelief, "What did you say?" Jack asks his voice so thick he isn't sure he can get the words out

"It was a romantic overture," the bubbling lilt in her voice catches him by surprise and he is silent for a moment processing the information.

"Say it again," he can't help the demand. He needs to be sure he is hearing correctly.

"Come after me, Jack Robinson," she repeats, a bit breathlessly, but firmly.

Jack doesn't hesitate this time. He pulls her into a kiss and pours all of his desire and longing for her into it. As always she tastes like a piece of heaven and she feels heavenly as well. One hand is tangled in her soft raven hair and the other is holding her to him. It may be their sweetest kiss yet he thinks as he savors her lips and her hold on his waist through his overcoat.

Vaguely Jack hears her Father again, "When you two have quite finished."

Jack finally breaks off the kiss, confessing one of his concerns, "I always feared another man would sweep you away from me. I never thought it'd be your father."

"There's a whole world out there, Jack. He's the least of your worries!" Phryne's cheeky response comes through the short distance separating them now.

Pity her Father is here and there isn't time to prove just how much he wants her before she leaves. What he wouldn't give to spend some more time doing just what they are doing now. Phryne's blue eyes twinkle up at him and the promise there causes Jack to suck in a breath as she turns to go.

Jack watches as she expertly turns the plane for takeoff and then raises his hand in salute as she waves at him and then dips the plane's wings as she soars away. He watches until he can't see even a speck before turning back to his car. His brain is whirling with the implications of her words, "Come after me Jack Robinson."

Jack knows she wants him to do as she asked. She doesn't say things she doesn't mean, she has reassured him repeatedly that she "lies as little as possible". That is one of the things he knows to be true of Phryne. Others may think she is a simpering society female, but he knows better. He knows that she measures her words carefully with those she cares about because you never know if you will be able to say more words later. Thus her invitation is genuine. Jack ponders what it will mean if he follows her to England. It will be a serious declaration of his feelings. His heart will be even more vulnerable. What if he arrives to find her in the arms of another man? How will he handle it? Just as you do now Jack, he reminds himself, you are still in her life and they are cast off. Whoever he is he will be cast off when you arrive. That should be a clue that deep down, whether she is aware of it yet or not, you are the one she dreams of when she allows herself to dream.

And as for my heart, he thinks with a rare and sheepish smile, it is already putty in her hands.


	7. Chapter 7

Touching Phryne

Thank you for your kind words and comments. I apologize that this chapter has been so long in coming. Originally I was going to stop with the previous chapter, but just couldn't get away from this. Then I had work and a long trip that kept me away from finishing. It is complete now. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7: Epilogue

 **Somewhere on the ocean between London and Melbourne**

Jack Robinson wakes but doesn't open his eyes the gentle rocking of the steamer lulling him into that lovely state between sleep and waking. He hears the deep soft breathing of the woman who is sprawled by his side, and in his mind he sees the dark hair spread around her face, the kiss swollen lips relaxed into a soft smile, the crystal blue eyes soft and sated. His lips quirk in a half smile and he remembers.

 **Australia ~ 8 months ago**

 _He tried to put everything he felt into that kiss before Phryne left. He couldn't let her leave without something more of his true feelings being shared._

" _Come after me Jack Robinson," she said her voice slightly breathless and her eyes huge in her face, the yellow scarf fluttering softly in the breeze, her boots polished to perfection, her smile dazzling, the blue swallow pin winking merrily._ Isn't it funny the things that make an impression?

 _Jack remembers his swirling thoughts as he watched Phryne disappear into the blue, his heart aching with loss. His return to City South was made in a haze as his mind thought of and rejected options for following her. He argued with himself all the way there trying to convince his heart that she hadn't meant it, but knowing if he doesn't follow her she might think he isn't serious about_ _ **his**_ _romantic overture, and he most certainly is. As Jack thinks of what he missed out on because he wouldn't, or rather, couldn't share her, a frown mars his brow. He knows the sex would be mind-blowing- for him at least, but he wants more. He wants long walks on the foreshore and picnics in the gardens; someone to share with after a difficult case; someone who understands the shadows that constantly creep close; someone who wants him just for him. He heaved a long sigh his brow furrowed for he doesn't know if Phryne will ever be ready for those things. And he isn't sure he could ever be ready for less._

Here his mind returns briefly to the present where Phryne lays beside him. He gathers her close spooning her, and she snuggles against him, not waking. Resting his chin on the dark haired head in the crook of his neck he allows his mind to drift again, her warmth soothing him as he hooks his arm around her waist.

 _Jack remembers the weeks that went by while he tried to figure out a way to get to her. He has some money, but not enough. And there is the issue of his job. He could take some time, but the trip there and the trip back will take at least 2 months he thinks, and there would be some time spent in England as well. Jack doesn't know if he can request over two months of leave and expect to have his job back upon his return. His arrest rate is good, but he isn't sure it is_ _ **that**_ _good. Jack continues to ponder his dilemma, taking time between cases to research the best way to get to England._

 _He learns that there are 6 shipping lines that are used most frequently for the trip. He also learns that it would definitely take about a month to make the journey. Jack remembers the Suez Canal from when he shipped to France and his first view of Egypt at Port Said. He narrows down the list to the Aberdeen Line, the Orient Line and the White Star line as he does his research. The White Star line seems to be the most passenger-friendly at all levels from first class to steerage, and he thinks if he were to take a ship he would choose White Star._

 _Jack also researches flying to England, and the more he learns the more his stomach ties up in knots for the dangers Phryne will face as she makes the journey. Jack contemplates talking to Group Captain Lyle Compton, but he rejects this idea out of hand. He can't bring himself to spend that many days in the air with a man who is one of Phryne's "old friends" regardless of the fact that they were in a life and death situation, and Compton risked his own life to save hers. He wonders if Mr. Butler might have contacts and goes by the St. Kilda house to talk with him._

" _Inspector, I will check with my friends and contacts in the RAAF, and I will let you know what I discover about a flyer for a trip to England," said Mr. Butler an understanding note in his voice._

" _Thank you Mr. Butler." Jack stays for dinner with Mr. Butler enjoying the man's company and the excellent meal. Mr. Butler notes that the Inspector has a bit more of the lean hungry look these days without Phryne feeding him up._

 _The call comes out of the blue. Jack is sitting at his desk reading a report, or rather rereading the same report for the third time, and having trouble focusing on anything but a way to England and Phryne. "City South, Inspector Jack Robinson here," Jack's deep, crisp voice answers._

" _Hello Jack," the Commissioner's voice booms over the line. "Could you meet me in my office at 10:30 a.m.?"_

" _Of course, sir," Jack replies. "May I know the subject of our meeting?"_

" _I'll relay that information once you are in my office," is all the Commissioner will say._

 _As Jack takes the tram to Russell Street he wonders what the Commissioner wants with him. It can't be bad he muses. With Phryne gone things are staid and steady at City South. Jack loathes admitting it but they aren't closing as many cases as quickly without Miss Fisher._

 _No one else challenges his thinking like she does. He needs her. He won't admit it to anyone but he believes their closure rate together is far better than either on their own could ever be. They just fit together; despite his penchant for "The Book" and her penchant for "dubious information gathering techniques". He grins briefly thinking of her white stocking clad legs as she wriggled her way into Leonard Stephens flat via an open second story window._

 _He arrives at Russell Street and enters the building checking in with the constable who points him to a bench. Jack sits, hat in his hands idly running his fingers along the brim as he remembers when he received this hat. "You came to my rescue Jack and paid dearly in the millinery sense," he can still hear her voice as well as feel her hands putting the hat on his head and adjusting the brim to a slightly rakish angle. He smiles at the memory, his heart contracting painfully. His eyes close briefly as he gains control again._

" _Jack, come in," the Commissioner pokes his head out of his door._

 _Jack stands, noticing for the first time he is several inches taller than the Commissioner, and walks through the door the Commissioner is holding open, pausing to shake hands, and on the mahogany desk Jack sees a telegram and a letter._

" _I'll get right to it Jack," the Commissioner says looking up at him with keen green eyes. "You have received a summons, by special request of Scotland Yard, to go to London undercover to assist in an investigation involving connections to the Fletcher/Sanderson case."_

 _As Jack starts to speak, the raised hand of the Commissioner stops him. "You_ _ **are**_ _going Inspector. Put Senior Constable Collins in charge. I will send a detective inspector around from time to time. Your job will be waiting when you return even though you may be gone for quite some time," the Commissioner says in a tone that brooks no argument._

 _Jack can scarcely take in what the Commissioner is saying. All he can think of is getting to Phryne._

" _The Victoria Police and Scotland Yard are providing funds for your passage and advancing three months salary as well," the Commissioner continues totally unaware of Jack's inner turmoil. "Send a telegram once you are settled so we know where to send your pay and other communications."_

 _He pushes a bank draft across the table for a number of pounds that makes Jack's head spin. "You are dismissed, Jack," the Commissioner says holding out a hand to shake Jack's again. "Make us proud Inspector."_

" _Yes sir, I'll do my best."_

 _Jack's mind is spinning with all that must be done, but the main thought in his mind is, "I'm coming after you Phryne Fisher."_

In his office, the Commissioner picks up his phone to place a telegram. "It's done," were the only words transcribed. Once the telegram has been taken care of the Commissioner mutters under his breath, "I hope Collins is ready to step it up. He has very big shoes to fill."

 _Jack goes immediately to City South and draws Collins into his office. "Sit down Collins. After Hugh sits down across from him Jack looks intently at him, barely able to contain his excitement. "Hugh, I am being sent to England to work on a case that has connections to Fletcher and Sanderson. I don't know how long I will be gone. The Commissioner wants you to be in charge of City South."_

 _At Hugh's stricken look of panic, Jack says bracingly, "He will send a detective inspector around from time to time. I think you could do with the practice. You'll be fine Hugh; I have faith in you. Write and let me know how things are going – care of Scotland Yard. "Oh and Collins – this is undercover so not a word to anyone- especially Mrs. Collins."_

 _Jack makes his travel preparations. He doesn't tell Phryne, wanting to surprise her and he knows from her telegrams that she will be at her parents. Instead he tells her that he has to go undercover and he will contact her when he can._

 **England**

Phryne had landed in England 2 weeks before, exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. It hadn't taken her long to recover physically, but Lady Margaret can't help but notice that Phryne is not her usual buoyant self. She catches her staring into nothingness more often than she would care to admit. Also, despite a string of invitations from the very most eligible men, Phryne comes home every night and if past behavior means anything, this change is significant. **And** she is not eating and it isn't that she doesn't like Cook's offerings.

Her mother also notices how she eagerly anticipates news from Australia whether letter or telegram. As her mother draws her out with seemingly empty conversations, one name keeps repeating – as frequently as she mentions Dot and Mr. Butler, Cec and Bert, Aunt P and missing Arthur she mentions Detective Inspector Robinson more. Why as she thinks about it, she realizes that Phryne has told her in detail about every case they have worked together, how he was with her for Janey's remains recovery, how he waltzed her and how they share nightcaps, but it is more what she doesn't say that intrigues her mother. Lady Margaret decides it's time to have a conversation with Henry.

Henry and Margaret reunite in a blaze of the heat that fueled their youth reminding each how much they really do love the other flaws and all. As they cuddle after another passionate coupling, Henry tells her more about his time in Australia and what happened with his cousin.

"How did you find Phryne while you were there?" Margaret asks her great blue eyes, so like Phryne's, piercing him with concern from where her head lay pillowed on his chest. "Is she happy?"

Henry is quiet, thinking. "I found her to be an interesting dichotomy. On the one hand she lives as if there is no tomorrow; on the other she is responsible for a teenager, her household, a couple of cabbies she keeps at her beck and call and her investigations. She works cases with Detective Inspector Jack Robinson of City South on a regular basis." He pauses here worrying his bottom lip.

"What is it Henry?" she asks with a tinge of impatience.

"Well, I can't quite put my finger on it. She is very close to this Inspector Robinson, but they aren't together socially. Although, he did follow her to the airfield the day we left. They shared a very lengthy kiss – not the kiss of mere friends," he says thoughtfully. "I didn't really notice any other liberties although Phryne was quite angry with me when the Inspector drank my tonic on top of several others and promptly passed out in her parlor after I accidentally knocked him in the head with the door."

"I see," Margaret responds thoughtfully. "It's all making sense." At Henry's puzzled glance she continues, "She told me he waltzed her," and with these words her gaze into Henry's eyes becomes more intense.

"Really?" "Well my darling Margaret, what do you make of that?"

"I think she's in love with him," is the soft response, "and I want to meet him Henry. How can we get him here?"

"Leave it to me," Henry says. "I am owed some favors and may be able to pull some strings to get him sent here on a case. Can you set up a case my dear?"

"Of course," her eyes sparkling as she responds, a cheeky note in her soft voice, "You and Phryne aren't the only ones with a knack for getting your way."

Seeing a flash of beautiful dimple in his wife's smile Henry responds, "Too true," and holds her closer stroking her back with gentle fingers as she falls asleep. He can't sleep thinking about their discussion so he contemplates his part of the plan until sleep finally overtakes him.

Margaret gets right to work on a plan. She already knows a lot about a number of cases from her conversations with Phryne. She decides that the Fletcher/Sanderson case is the one to use since the young girls would have been shipped all over the world and it wouldn't be suspicious for a connection to come out of London. As Lady Margaret works the details, she decides to see what her sister may know of the situation. And thus a series of telegrams between the two sisters begins.

 _Dear Prudence_

 _Hope you are well stop Tell me everything about Jack Robinson and Phryne stop_

 _Lovingly, your sister_

 _Dear Margaret_

 _They are rarely apart stop I tried to discourage stop Believe they are in love, but stubborn stop Inspector is a good man though divorced stop He was kind to Arthur stop_

 _Godspeed, Prudence_

 _Dear Prudence_

 _Need Jack here immediately stop Working on a plan stop Details to follow stop._

 _Margaret_

 _Dear Margaret_

 _I can't wait to hear details stop._

 _Prudence_

Lady Margaret elects to meet Jack at The Ritz Hotel. She will go prior to his arrival and take a suite under the name of Marguerite Waters. She explains her plan to Henry and he sets the wheels of the plan into motion. Now to the difficult task of keeping Phryne occupied and with them for the time it will take Jack to get to England.

 _Dear Prudence_

 _Bringing Inspector here on Fletcher/Sanderson case stop Please provide the £1500 wired to Commissioner for Jack stop Your help is most appreciated stop_

 _Margaret_

 _Dear Margaret_

 _Funds have been delivered stop Keep me apprised of developments stop_

 _Prudence_

Lady Margaret decides that she will have both Jack and Phryne be a part of the "investigation" somehow, and she will have them meet in due course. In the meantime, she asks Phryne's help in planning a large party. Reluctantly Phryne agrees chaffing against a delay when all she wants is to go home to Melbourne, but seeing the obvious pleasure on her Mother's face she knows she will stay to help. She likes seeing her Mother happy, and it will be years before she sees her again once she leaves England. They set a party date for 6 weeks from the following Saturday.

Phryne sends a telegram to Dot telling her of the delay. After some inner debate, she also sends one to Jack.

 _Inspector,_

 _Mother needs my help stop At least six weeks till return journey begins stop Looking forward to our next murder investigation stop Your partner in uncovering truth, Phryne_

Phryne thinks the telegram is acceptable - letting him know she misses him without saying it.

Jack's heart soars when he gets the telegram. She will still be there when he arrives.

 _Miss Fisher,_

 _Glad to hear it stop Your talents are appreciated and missed stop_

Jack debates over how to complete the telegram wanting to share more, but as usual his conservative nature will not let him share his deepest feelings via telegram so he finishes with

 _Last missive prior to undercover assignment stop Your servant, Jack_

Phryne smiles when she receives Jack's reply running her finger across his "your servant" her mind and heart observing the more personal closing and she puts the telegram away in her room feeling lighter than she has in several days, though she is dying to know what his undercover assignment is. She will have to put Dot on the case.

While Phryne and her Mother plan the party, Jack begins his journey opting in the end to fly with Bert Hinkler, whom Mr. Butler's contacts had put Jack in touch with. Hinkler, a hot shot flyer who has done some impressive flying, making the trip from England to Australia in about half the time of other pilots just recently, is willing to fly for a modest amount of money if Jack agrees to allow the flight to be a race against time. After considering the offer, Jack agrees. His decision to fly ultimately coming as a result of wanting to be closer to Phryne and thinking that if he flew it would be a similar shared experience and something they can discuss over a night cap or two, and they can argue about which experience is more intense – pilot or passenger.

There are a few incidents during the ensuing days of flight that Jack knows will forever cause his heart to leap uncomfortably when Phryne flies. And he has no doubts that she will fly again being drawn to danger like a moth to the flame. He tries to put the up draft and down draft incidents from his mind focusing instead on what he might find related to the case, and of course, Phryne.

When Jack finally lands in London he fervently hopes Phryne doesn't want to fly back to Australia! The seemingly endless hours in all types of weather sitting with his long legs crammed into the tiny passenger compartment of the plane is not an activity he cares to repeat in the near future. The one thing Jack liked was not needing to converse. He had plenty of thinking time and he spent many hours thinking about Phryne's words "Come after me Jack Robinson" and "there's a whole world out there Jack. He's the least of your worries!" Jack wonders if Phryne will be content to come home to Australia. He hasn't really thought about her not coming home, but the world is certainly more accessible from England.

When Jack lands he goes immediately to Scotland Yard to get his orders and check on where he might stay. The sights and sounds in London are very different from Melbourne and Jack allows his senses to absorb these sounds, smells and sights.

His contact at Scotland Yard tells him he should stay at The Ritz Hotel and that he will be contacted by their informant in a few days. He is also told there is no need to check back in unless there is a major development. He is undercover for a reason.

Jack manages to find The Ritz without too much trouble. He checks in and bathes before falling asleep and staying that way for close to 24 hours. Once he wakes he explores the area and contemplates when he can contact Phryne. Not until after he meets with the contact for he knows Phryne's bigger than life personality won't blend in at The Ritz, and Jack knows he will be very distracted once they are together. He indulges in the memory of her lips on his, her soft skin beneath his fingertips and he trembles slightly his desire for her spiking through him. He has difficulty falling asleep that night, his wanting and hunger for her something he can't put out of his mind and certainly not out of his body.

After trying fruitlessly to go to sleep he gets up and strolls to the window looking out at the London night willing the singing of his blood to calm. After what seems hours he relaxes enough and clears his mind enough that he is able to return to bed and fall asleep though his dreams are punctuated by memories of their interruptions, and he vows to the Phryne in his dreams that there will be no further interrupts.

Lady Margaret sends a note to Jack letting him know which suite to come to at 3:00 p.m. the following day. She arrives at the hotel and settles in to the suite ordering tea to be delivered promptly at 3:15 and requesting the delicate blue floral pattern on the china.

At precisely 3:00 there is a very firm knock on her door. Lady Margaret ushers Jack in and introduces herself, "Good afternoon, I am Marguerite Waters."

Jack shakes her hand with his firm grip, "Detective Inspector Jack Robinson," the deep timbre of his voice rumbling around them.

Lady Margaret sizes up the Inspector. "Come in and have a seat Inspector," she says in a cool, polite voice favorably noting his physical assets as he crosses the room.

She sees the intelligence and warmth that radiate from his eyes and his quiet sense of strength and is charmed and wants to get to know him a bit better. "Don't forget to play your part," she admonishes silently.

Jack is taking in the appearance of Marguerite Waters as well and he observes that there is something familiar about her, but he can't imagine what. He notices what a lovely woman she must have been in her youth for she is quite attractive even now with her clear blue eyes radiating strength of character and her trim figure. He feels a bit like a turtle flipped onto its back as she observes him and he wills himself not to touch his collar or adjust his tie, but rather to school his features as he would when interviewing a suspect. They exchange comments about the weather as they assess each other.

There is a knock at the door, "Our tea has arrived," Lady Margaret says in response to Jack's questioning look.

Margaret pours the tea engaging Jack in conversation about his trip. Jack answers her questions easily though he is reserved. Lady Margaret finds herself drawn to his calm manner. Finally she gets to the point, "I know you must be wondering why you are here."

At Jack's nod she continues, "I think I stumbled onto some evidence that is related to the kidnap of young girls for the slave trade and the names Sidney Fletcher and George Sanderson were among the papers, as well as a ship called the Pandarus. Your case made news even here in England and I determined that I would go to Scotland Yard. I did so. I also made it clear that I wanted the man who had solved the original case here working it."

Jack's deep voice breaks in, "I had plenty of help on the case, in fact a private detective, with whom I regularly consult, The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher, was instrumental in solving the case and bringing Fletcher and Sanderson to justice. I didn't do it all myself."

"You must tell me everything," Lady Margaret breathes, "A lady detective, how fascinating."

Jack proceeds to fill her in on the shareable details of the case and what transpired aboard the ship and his anger for the girls they weren't able to save. Margaret is able to see the subtle changes in expression as he talks and how he changes when he talks about Phryne. She sees respect, exasperation, fear and deep caring flicker across his face as he talks.

Suddenly inspired Jack says, "Mrs. Waters, as it happens, Miss Fisher is here in England. Perhaps I could call on her to consult as well? Would that be acceptable?"

Suppressing a smile Margaret pretends to consider his request, "Well, if you think she would be a help on the case Inspector by all means call her in. When I think of those poor girls and that it might still be going on, well, I can hardly stand the thought. It makes me think of my own daughters and what could have happened to them," Lady Margaret pauses real tears gathering in her eyes as she thinks of Janey. "Whatever you feel you need Inspector in order to solve the case. I will help in any way I can."

"I appreciate that Mrs. Waters."

They arrange another meeting time for further review of the information Mrs. Waters has before he contacts Phryne. Jack takes his leave wondering what he will do with himself the rest of the day. He goes to the Tower of London poking through the ruins and contemplating the many souls who have spent time within its boundaries. He also goes to see Big Ben and Westminster Abbey.

Phryne sighs yet again looking out the window, staring sightlessly at the rain which is a near daily occurrence thinking longingly of the St. Kilda Foreshore…and Jack. Jack who is not far from her mind as she waltzes with the men her parents have lined up for her. Jack in his blue wool suit and his gray overcoat with the red lining peeking out as he crouches over a body, Jack waltzing her, Jack's mouth plundering hers, Jack's voice demanding, "Say it again" and her "Come after me Jack Robinson," the flicker she saw in his eyes, the uplift of the corners of his mouth, the feel of his hands skating over her heated skin. She allows her eyes to close at the memories.

Lady Margaret decides, after hearing Phryne sigh for the tenth time in as many minutes that it is time to find out what is going on. Laying aside her embroidery she moves to a chair closer to the window seat which Phryne has taken as hers with its lovely view of the gardens that her mother guesses she hasn't really even noticed in the weeks she has been home and staring out.

"Phryne, dearest, what's the matter?" Margaret asks her gentle but firm tone cutting through Phryne's reverie.

"Nothing Mother," Phryne says unable to bring herself to share her inner turmoil.

"Phryne, I know you like to protect me, but I wasn't born yesterday. You are clearly not happy."

"I miss Melbourne," Phryne replies evasively.

"Are you sure you don't miss a particular person, not just Melbourne," Lady Margaret asks casually.

"I don't know what you mean Mother," Phryne dodges.

"Phryne, if you don't want to tell me, at least be honest with yourself. You miss someone. You must care a great deal for him for you to be this morose and homebound."

Before she can stop herself she blurts out, "He waltzed me Mother. Like Father waltzed you. Nothing has been the same since that day, and I asked him to come after me when I started the flight to bring Father home, but he is an officer of the law and devoted to his job and it is unlikely he can even take time off to come, but I want him to very much," her voice trails off and she lapses into silence again appalled at what she spoke.

"Does he know you love him?"

"I never said that!" Phryne exclaims looking wildly at her Mother her blue eyes startled and enormous in her face.

"Again, Daughter, I carried you in my womb. And I'm not a completely out of touch person, not to mention your Father and I have a very passionate relationship. It is written all over you for those who really know you."

"Mother, please," Phryne says slightly weakly not wanting to consider her parents as passionate creatures at all or that she may actually be **in** love with Jack.

"Alright Phryne, I won't question you further." A lovely glow graces Lady Margaret's face as she smiles sweetly at her daughter before returning to her embroidery.

"Thank you Mother," Phryne says before turning to stare out at the misting rain, her face once again melancholy and her expression far away, though she does think about her Mother's words. _I don't love him, do I_? _Of course not._ But her heart and mind are not synched and she sighs yet again, her confusion blinding her once more to the pastoral view out the window.

Her conversation with Phryne solidifying her plans, she discusses her thoughts with Henry that night. "I think Phryne loves Jack Robinson based on what she didn't tell me today when I tried to draw her out."

"Do you really?"

"Yes, I do. And I would be willing to bet our entire fortune that Inspector Jack Robinson loves her."

"That is serious," Henry says playfully running his fingers along the soft skin of her arm.

"I am going to change my plan with Jack. I'm going to confess my deceit, beg his forgiveness and then bring him here so we can observe them together."

"Very well my darling. I believe that is as good an idea as attempting to carry on the charade of an investigation, although I do believe he and Phryne can solve any crime when they put their minds to it, and I expect they could find out more than we want to contemplate about the selling of young girls into slavery in London."

Lady Margaret sends word to Jack the next morning of a change in plans and that she will meet him at his room at tea time the following day with further information. Once the news has been imparted to Jack, she and Phryne make some adjustments to the party planning and the day passes smoothly.

For his part Jack is enjoying seeing the city and putting his detective skills to work. He finds the areas of town most likely to yield young girls to the slave trade. He checks with the Catholic Church finding out more about their placement programs for virtuous young ladies. And not to leave the Protestants out of the investigation completely he checks with some denominations for similar type programs making careful notations of the data gathered in his leather bound notebook.

The next day Jack prepares for his meeting with Lady Fisher making sure his already fastidiously kept rooms meet with his approval.

Lady Margaret arrives a few minutes late and their tea arrives only moments after Jack gets her seated in one of the wing back chairs.

Jack serves tea this time, and once they both have a cup he fills her in on his activities since he last saw her.

"Impressive work Inspector," Lady Margaret compliments him.

"Thank you Madam. It's all part of the job."

"Inspector, may I call you Jack?" she asks shyly.

"Of course you may, everyone else does."

She smiles her thanks. "Jack, I have a confession to make." At his questioning look she continues softly, "I am not Marguerite Waters. I am Lady Margaret, wife to the Baron of Richmond-upon-Thames, officially, and more importantly Phryne's mother."

As Jack sputters choking on his tea and giving her a look of incredulous horror, she continues, "I wanted to meet you, the man who has my daughter staring out into space, and whom she has said so much about since she returned. I exchanged information with my sister, Prudence Stanley regarding you, and then I had Henry call in some favors with Scotland Yard."

As Jack continues to stare at her in mute disbelief, she says, "I hope you will forgive me Jack. I know so little of Phryne's life as an adult that I couldn't help doing whatever necessary to meet you."

Watching her looking hopefully at him, Jack realizes how much she looks like Phryne now that he knows their relationship. He can't resist the plea in the large navy blue eyes, just as he has been unable to resist Phryne. "I forgive you Lady Margaret. I can understand a mother's desire to know about her daughter's life. I will have to repay you for the expenses of bringing me here and for the accommodations."

"Nonsense, Jack. I wanted to do it, and while I appreciate your noble offer of funds, I don't need them. With Phryne home, Henry has not been gambling so there is plenty of cash for me to invest as I see fit rather than seeing it wasted on cards.

At this Jack gives her a small smile which transforms the serious face, "Only if you insist Lady Margaret," and Margaret sees again what a lovely man he is both inside and out.

"Jack," she says softly, "please don't mention this to Phryne – at least not yet. Let me be the one to tell her. She won't understand. She will think I am meddling, which I am, but it is with good intentions. Can you come to the estate, but continue the charade for a while with her?"

"If you wish it I can continue to be undercover investigating the case until you are able to speak with Phryne. Don't wait too long though; she usually knows when I am withholding information," he tells her sheepishly.

While Lady Margaret waits patiently, Jack quickly packs his suitcase and then checks out of The Ritz, and they make their way back to the estate.

Placing a finger to her lips for silence Lady Margaret leads Jack quietly across the grand entrance hall toward the back of the manse. She silently opens the door and Jack catches a glimpse of Phryne, knees drawn to her chest staring out into the garden.

"Phryne, I have brought a visitor for supper."

Jack doesn't miss Phryne's grimace as she gracefully rises and puts on a smile, "Very well Mother."

Lady Margaret motions Jack into the room.

"Good Evening Miss Fisher," he says quietly though his eyes are bright with delight.

"Jack! You came," and for the first time in weeks her expression is joyful, her smile genuine.

Jack says nothing giving an almost imperceptible nod at her statement of the obvious. She strolls elegantly across the room and kisses him on each cheek, the brush of her lips burning his skin and filling him with the impulse to sweep her into his arms, the memory of their last kiss heavy between them.

"I thought you would be surprised," Lady Margaret breaks in keeping Jack from acting on his desire.

"I am! Jack, do tell all," Phryne commands slightly breathlessly.

Lady Margaret sees the silent communication between the two, communication she isn't sure they are even aware of at this point, but nonetheless they are communicating. The gestures just a bit too intimate, the easy way they speak to each other, the sparkle that is back in Phryne's eyes, Jack's quirking grin and the fact that Margaret's existence is now totally ignored by both young people. She smiles. Her belief that she has done the right thing in bringing Jack to England solidified by the interaction she observes.

Supper that night is a lively affair. Phryne is talkative, Henry is talkative and Jack and Margaret talk as needed. Both Jack and Phryne share some stories of their flying adventures. There is laughter and for the first time in many years Lady Margaret feels her family is complete. Henry is at ease with Jack and clearly respects him. She sighs very softly her contented warmth radiating out to all of them.

After dessert of raspberry trifle they take advantage of a break in the rain to stroll through the gardens. The gardens are clearly one of Lady Margaret's passions and she talks eloquently about various flowers and plants. Jack's knowledge of plants is actually quite good and so he and Phryne's mum chatter together easily on the topic. Phryne doesn't mind. She is enjoying Jack's presence and her parents' obvious approval and she actually loves hearing the smooth rumble of his deep voice. It causes heat to pool low in her belly as it washes over her. She can hardly admit to herself just how much she missed him though because that would be, well, almost like admitting she needs him and Phryne Fisher needs no one. At least that is what her brain keeps trying to tell her wavering heart.

After their walk, Jack, Phryne and her parents return to the drawing room to enjoy a nightcap and a game of Mahjong. The conversation is light although anyone with two eyes and a smidgen of observational skill can see the sparks in the looks Jack and Phryne continue to share.

Finally Lady Margaret says, "Come along Henry. Let's retire and leave the young people to their reunion."

"Very well my dear. Good night Jack, Phryne," he says moving to shake Jack's hand and kissing Phryne before taking Margaret gently by the arm and escorting her out of the room.

As soon as the door shuts and the footsteps fade away Jack moves with catlike grace to join Phryne on the damask covered settee. Removing her half empty glass from her fingers he sets their glasses on the table and then captures both of her hands in his, staring deeply into her eyes, assessing what he finds there. His pulse leaps at what he sees and before she can say or do anything he leans in and brushes her lips with his- a brief hello – reminding him of how soft her lips are and reminding her of how firm his are.

With a very soft sigh Phryne rests her forehead against his, "You came," she says so quietly Jack barely hears her.

"So I did," Jack's deep voice rumbles and his hands tighten on hers. "I can't say I would have made it – not for lack of want to mind you – if this Scotland Yard investigation hadn't come up."

"You know I would have given you the money to come, Jack. All you had to do was declare your intention."

"I think that falls into the category of _I am not as liberal minded as you want me to be or as much as I would like to be_ because I couldn't let you pay for me to come to you," is his deeply regretful, yet firm response.

Suddenly her hungry mouth is on his and between kisses, she states, "You really are a man of honor Jack Robinson. I do so want to corrupt you just a little bit."

"Oh, I think you have been most successful in that endeavor Miss Fisher," Jack breathes and then he is kissing her as if his very life depends on her response, which she most enthusiastically gives.

The only sounds in the room now are of their kisses and passion filled sighs, low moans and soft groans which quickly escalate and in moments there is a flurry of movement as they break apart and set about divesting each other of clothing barriers. Phryne divests Jack of his Jacket, waistcoat and crisp white shirt quick as a flash and Jack pulls her overdress off revealing the satiny under slip which softly skims her curves. Sucking in his breath Jack pulls her to him again wrapping himself tightly around her and lifting her in his arms so that she automatically wraps her legs around him nestling her soft warmth against his answering response before returning to ravish her neck with his lips; trailing kisses from the sensitive shell of her ear to the hollow of her throat, pausing to linger over the erratic beating of her pulse.

Jack moves them to perch on the edge of a chaise lounge, his groan as her weight settles more fully against him reverberating through her. Phryne arches back slightly exposing her neck further to his mouth and allowing him to trail kisses across her shoulder and chest and pushing her breasts toward him. Jack notices his boyhood sheriff's badge pinned to her slip and growling buries his face in her chest conscious of the pounding of his heart and hers as he allows his hands to stroke along her sides the silk of her slip rippling as he brushes the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts thoughts about why she is wearing the badge quickly overcome by thoughts of removing the barrier presented by her slip, regardless of how soft the material. Jack is just beginning to bunch the slip up her sides using his long fingers to gather the material when he brushes her bare skin in the process. The jolt to his senses is electric and he seeks her mouth again, hungry for her kiss.

"What is the meaning of this," a shocked and angry voice yells.

Jack jumps releasing her slip, and Phryne nearly tumbles of his lap, her stocking clad legs losing their grip on his waist. He quickly catches her, clasping her to him and just as quickly stands with her placing her gently on her feet and moving protectively in front of her.

"Father, what are you doing here?" Phryne's angry voice retorts. Jack is unable to find his as yet. His face is burning, but he stands firmly between Phryne and her Father.

"I demand an answer as to why I find my daughter being ravished in my own drawing room," Lord Fisher barks out.

"Why are you here?" Phryne asks yet again trying to get around Jack, but he has taken a firm grip on her wrist and only allows her to move beside him.

"This is my house Phryne. I was coming back for a drink for my tonic. Imagine my shock at seeing my daughter being mauled by someone I trusted," the Baron spits out.

Jack hangs his head slightly. He really can't blame the Baron for being angry. He finally finds his voice, "Sir, it isn't Phryne's fault. I take full responsibility for what happened here and my actions. It was wrong of me to allow my feelings for your daughter to overrule my sense of propriety. I do apologize."

Phryne is staring at him incredulously her anger growing by the second, "Pardon me Jack, but it does generally take two to have a tete-a-tete. And Father, Jack was not mauling me. I was…wait a moment, why am I explaining anything to you. I am a grown woman, and I can do as I please."

"That is where you are wrong my dear. There are still rules and codes of honor. I demand justice for you. Jack Robinson, I challenge you to a duel at dawn…" his angry voice is cut off by a screech from Phryne.

"Absolutely not! Are you crazy Father? Don't be ridiculous. There is no need for this drama. Jack isn't the first man with whom I have been intimate on a chaise lounge."

Henry Fisher raised a hand, "Enough! I have laid out the challenge and that is that. There will be a duel."

At Jack's silent nod, Phryne goes totally mad, "Jack Robinson how can you agree to such an archaic practice? My Father is as good a shot as you. This cannot end well," she rages a note of worry in her voice.

She trails off sensing in Jack's silence that there is no argument that will change his mind. And she knows there is no changing her Father's.

At this moment, Lady Margaret comes into the room, "Henry, what is taking you so long," her voice trails off as she takes in the three people, noting Phryne and Jack's state of dishabille with a raised eyebrow.

"Phryne, with me," she says.

"No, Mother, I am not leaving Jack alone with Father when he is in this mood. He has already challenged him to a duel."

"Henry!"

"I must defend my daughter's honor. Jack understands. Don't you Jack?"

At Jack's silent nod, Henry turns to Margaret, giving her a great wink and smile, "You see Margaret everything is as it should be. Jack and I will face off in the south paddock. I am going to fetch my dueling pistols."

"Father wait, please." The desperation in Phryne's voice causes Jack's heart to contract for her. He wonders what she is going to do now. "Is there anything I can do to talk you out of this ridiculously archaic activity? You don't have to defend my honor. I am quite capable of that myself."

"My dear girl, Henry George Fisher, the Baron of Richmond upon Thames, is indeed a man of honor. I must insist on your honor being defended; however, there is perhaps another way." At this declaration both Jack and Phryne's heads snap to look directly at the Baron.

"What is it?" Phryne asks cautiously her Father's foibles fresh on her mind.

"You can get married. Here. Immediately," responds the Baron.

"Phryne, no," Jack rasps, "I can't allow it…"

"Are you saying you won't marry me Jack Robinson?" Phryne's incredulous voice interrupts a bit squeaky with emotion.

"I said nothing of the kind, but you don't want to get married, and I don't want to force or coerce you into a marriage that you will despise. I would rather duel your Father than allow you to feel trapped." Turning to her he takes both of her tiny hands in his large ones, "I love you. Deep down you must know that I do, and you also know that I **am** the marrying kind. I can't ask you to marry me knowing how you feel about giving up your freedom."

"Jack, I…I don't know what to say. I will do anything to make sure you are safe - even marry you. We could always get divorced later if it doesn't work out."

Jack shook his head negatively. "I don't think I can do that Phryne. Once I marry you I don't know if I can survive letting you go. The idea of not having you by my side, as my partner and friend is more than I can bear, and if I have made love with you in addition," sighing heavily he continues, "you saved me Miss Fisher and I can't imagine my life without you in it, so it is better to meet your Father in the paddock to avenge your honor and allow you to be free than to risk losing you in a marriage that doesn't suite you." Jack is gripping her hands very tightly now, the love shimmering in his blue eyes causing Phryne to catch her breath slightly.

Her parents forgotten now, Phryne steps closer into Jack's space looking deeply into his eyes seeing a myriad of emotions flickering in the blue depths: love, strength, courage and compassion along with a bit of sadness and fear. A number of thoughts swirl in her head as she gazes into the fathomless pale blue of his eyes. _He understands me. He continually surprises me. He loves me, yet he is willing to let me go. Can I stand being with the same man every day-even a man who continually intrigues me? How different is marriage from what we have now other than monogamous sex? I have gotten to the point where many decisions are filtered by Jack's influence. Can I stand the thought that he or my Father could be hurt or killed? Guido sensed something in my lack of enthusiasm and Jack has saved_ _ **me**_ _over and over. He continues to save me. He came after me. I can do this to save him. He truly is my best friend I can't imagine a life without him in it._ Her sapphire blue eyes begin to glow and she gracefully lowers herself to her knees, not breaking the grip Jack has on her hands. Softly, almost in a whisper she asks, "Will you marry me? I want to marry you Jack, for as long as you will have me." Her voice though soft is steady and has the strength of her conviction and her eyes never waiver from his.

"Are you positive this is what you want?" Jack asks eyes widening in disbelief. At her nod he pulls her gently to her feet and sweeps her into a kiss of wild abandon, "Yes," he says huskily against her lips, "yes, I'll marry you Miss Fisher."

At the clearing of her Father's voice they both start, "Alright you two, this wedding needs to happen immediately. I cannot have any more displays like this one in my home."

"Henry!" Margaret grabs his arm, "Now that the issue of a duel has been satisfactorily resolved, let these two children talk. I think they have a number of details to discuss."

Continuing Lady Margaret says, "Phryne, since we already have a party planned, why not plan to be married then? Our guests would enjoy gathering in the garden for an announcement, and as it involves you, I don't think they will be shocked that there is a surprise."

"Mother, can we talk about that possibility tomorrow? I don't know about the timing. Jane isn't here or Mac or any of Jack's family or Dot and Hugh. I need to think this through."

"Think all you want Daughter, but this wedding will happen the night of the party at the latest," the Baron's voice brooks no argument.

Phryne sighs dramatically, "Seriously Father, don't you trust me?"

"About as much as you trust me. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in this case."

"I resent the implication Father," her voice again laced with a thread of anger.

"I could apologize Phryne, but we both know it is a statement of fact."

"But," she sputters her frustration mounting, her tenuous control slipping.

"Phryne," Jack's calm voice cuts through the tension building between Fisher the elder and Fisher the younger and her eyes fly to his face, "your father won this round. Leave it be. We can have a ceremony for the rest of the family when we return to Melbourne."

"Excellent suggestion Jack," Lady Margaret adds. "Come along Henry. I think we can trust Jack to ensure Phryne's honor is not further compromised."

"You can indeed, Lady Margaret," Jack states simply ignoring the exaggerated rolling of Phryne's eyes and the imprecations she mutters under her breath though he does catch the words _insane_ and _outsmarted_ which cause him to grin at her slightly.

Once her parents leave the room, Phryne rails against the thought of being made to acquiesce to her Father's whims.

Finally Jack pours them both a drink and motions for her to come to the chaise. She comes although she is still clearly wound up for battle and flounces onto the chaise where she draws her knees up to her chest and stares at the floor, finally silent.

Handing her the drink Jack sits down close beside her, not touching her, but almost doing so and close enough that he can see the slight trembling she can't control. Jack puts his drink down and he opens his arms to her, "Come here," it is a command and a plea all in two small words.

Wordlessly she shifts toward him and Jack gathers her tenderly into his arms cradling her protectively against his strong chest her cheek resting next to the steady thudding of his heartbeat. Jack strokes her hair soothingly. No words are needed, just as no words have ever been needed between them at times of crisis. Gradually her trembling stops, but Jack continues to stroke her hair the rhythm soothing. His body begins to respond to her closeness and he shifts slightly embarrassed that after all that has transpired this evening he very obviously still wants her.

Phryne responds by burrowing closer to him her hand instinctively moving down to caress him. Jack stops her hand huffing, "This is exactly how we got into this mess Miss Fisher."

"I'm a mess now am I," Phryne responds a hint of spark back in her voice. And Jack can hear the eye rolling even though he can't see it.

"Decidedly," Jack grins, but sobers quickly. "Seriously Phryne, you don't have to marry me. I will just leave in the night and return to Australia."

"And have my Father coming back to Melbourne to track you down? I don't think so Jack. Once he has made up his mind on something he is tenacious."

"Like Father like Daughter," Jack says resignedly.

"I am not like my Father," she pauses for a moment, "maybe I am more like him than I want to admit, but only when I am right."

At Jack's snort, Phryne pushes away from him.

"I'm sorry Phryne," his arms capture her before she can move totally off of his lap. "If you don't want me to leave and you don't want me to duel, I guess you really mean to marry me."

"I wouldn't have asked Jack, regardless of my Father's demands. We would have figured out a way around him somehow."

"Then why? I don't understand," Jack asks looking into her eyes with a totally puzzled expression.

"I missed you so and when you came through the door, something clicked inside here." She took his hand and placed it over her heart the sheriff's badge warming under the heat of his hand. "I felt," pausing to collect her thoughts before plowing on, "like I could live again, like there is nothing we can't face if we are together."

She swallows eyeing him with trepidation and apology. "I will be a terrible wife Jack. I know that. I am selfish and set in my ways. Concetta would be a much better wife for you than me. I don't cook or clean or do anything domestic and murder truly does find me. And I will never dance to your tune Jack Robinson; Never."

"You are correct, Concetta **would** make a better wife, **if** I wanted someone who would cook and clean and be home waiting for me every night. She said my heart is taken – very perceptive deduction – all from one brief kiss." At Phryne's raised eyebrows he continues, "She is correct. My heart is bewitched by one Phryne Fisher and has been for some time now. So I'm willing to risk it if you are."

Phryne snuggles into him again, "As it happens I really do want to know what is under all your layers Inspector. Will you waltz with me?"

"Now?" he asks doubtfully.

"Yes, now Inspector."

"If you put your dress on and let me put my shirt on. I really don't relish the thought of your Father and Mother walking through those doors again to find us half dressed."

With a grin she nods, grabs her dress and slips it on and then busies herself with the music while Jack dresses.

They waltz, the music fading away as before until they are simply floating on air lost in each other.

Meanwhile, Phryne's parents are giggling like two school children in Henry's room. "I knew they loved each other," Lady Margaret says between the giggles that keep rising like tinkling bells.

"If I had any doubts," said the Baron, "they are gone now. Our daughter would never have agreed to marry him if she didn't love him."

"Very true. Jack will make her happy. Anyone can see how keen he is regarding her." Margaret mumbles sleep finally claiming her as she turns to rest her back against Henry.

In the drawing room two people have stopped dancing and are just standing together loathe to part.

"Come to my room Jack." She looks up at him assessing his mood sensuous desire for him darkening her eyes and causing him to shiver ever so slightly.

"Miss Fisher, I gave your Mother my word of honor. I can't betray her trust. As much as I want to, and believe me when I say I do want you." For emphasis he pulls her closer to him letting her feel his desire. "I promise you, when we marry, there will be no more interruptions that can keep us apart – except for murder of course, and then we will investigate together."

Sighing in frustration, but nodding her agreement and gracing him with a small smile, she accompanies Jack to the guest suite where his suitcase has been unpacked. "Good Night Jack."

Jack allows himself one final kiss, holding her face between his hands and gently brushing her face with his thumbs. "Good Night Phryne."

Now that they have decided on marriage during the party there is a flurry of activity in order to complete preparations for both events.

They need to go back into London to find a suitable wedding dress and Jack wants to find a wedding band. He doesn't plan to get an engagement ring thinking that he can't spend someone else's money for an extravagance and an engagement of mere days, not months. There will be time for that later, **if** she doesn't leave him at the altar.

Phryne, Jack and her parents make the trip, but they go their separate ways with plans to meet back at tea time.

Jack immediately sets off for the jewelers with Henry and Phryne sets out to find a dress with her Mother.

It doesn't take Jack long to find a band he finds suitable, and he has it engraved with "Equal Partners". While they wait on the engraving, they wander around the shop looking at the various pieces of jewelry. Jack notices a particularly interesting piece and moves in to examine it more closely. It is a head piece that has lovely crystals that capture the light and on the edges are tiny enameled swallows in blue that Jack believes will be a match to Phryne's swallow pin. On impulse he buys the headband as a surprise for Phryne on their wedding day.

As the clerk wraps the head piece and the ring, she eyes Jack appreciatively and flirts shamelessly with him. Jack for his part is stoic and unmoved except for the barest of smirks. He only cares for one woman's flirtations, one woman's appreciation, and he doesn't return the girl's attentions in kind.

Henry notes this exchange with satisfaction. Phryne has no idea of the quality of man he is forcing her to marry. Henry chuckles and at Jack's questioning glance he shrugs, grinning magnanimously, a twinkle in his eye.

Phryne and Lady Margaret go to a posh area for shopping knowing they will have to find a dress "Prêt-à-Porter". Phryne indulges both her and her Mother's romanticism by trying on many white and cream dresses and suits.

"I wish Janey were here," she says wistfully to her Mother at one point.

"So do I," her Mother says just as wistfully. "She would have loved picking out dresses with you."

Nodding Phryne sighs and gets back to business. Knowing Jack's preference for propriety Phryne chooses a somewhat conservative dress, but feeds her daring side with some of the latest style lingerie. She also selects a simple silk robe of soft cream for no particular reason other than it feels divine against her skin. She can wear it while she is preparing for the day. They purchase the dress, stockings, garter, gloves, and shoes. Phryne decides she will wear a head piece she already owns as she doesn't see anything she really likes in the store and she flat out refuses to wear a veil.

Once they have seen their purchases safely wrapped and planned for their delivery to the house, they leave to meet the men for luncheon. There is easy rapport among them again though Phryne longs to have Jack all to herself. The slight throbbing at her center demanding acknowledgement makes her want Jack to feel just as needy. She slips off her shoe and runs her foot up his leg.

Jack starts slightly at the sudden contact and nearly overturns his glass. In the ensuing flurry of movement at the table Phryne teases him with her foot again, this time brushing even closer to her goal her eyes sparkling mischievously. As her foot inches ever higher Jack gently grabs her foot massaging the delicate arch lightly. Phryne's eyes widen and she grins at Jack's slight shake of the head and subsequent movement of his chair closer to the table.

The time between their visit to London and the party is filled with arrangements and Phryne trying repeatedly to get Jack to give in to her whims. For his part Jack returns to his previous more standoffish behavior needing to preserve what little sanity he has left. He doesn't share with Phryne, as he doesn't need her redoubling her efforts to seduce him, but he is hardly able to concentrate on anything whatsoever for wanting to love the sensual smirk off of her lips despite his promise to Lady Margaret.

The day of the party and wedding dawns with an uncharacteristically soft blue sky and sunshine and Jack can't help smiling even though he is anxious and concerned about Phryne. He really feels like he will be trapping her and his anxiety grows. He makes a decision to offer her another out, Lord Fisher's anger to be dealt with later. He writes a note to her and requests the butler deliver it along with his surprise.

 _Phryne, it's not too late to change your mind and call off the wedding. We will figure out a way to get around your parents. I want you to be certain my love, for I plan to never let you go after "I do". I found this when we were in London and it reminded me of you. I want you to have it regardless of your decision. Yours always, Jack_

Phryne reads the note her expression softening and a slight smile gracing her mouth. Really, she thinks, Jack is absolutely nothing like Rene. Nothing like any man she has ever known truth be told. She told Compton there was too much ballast for lift off, but she now recognizes it was fear on both their parts; she because she knows deep down how serious Jack's feelings are; he because his feelings are serious and he knows she is "not the marrying kind" – still he intrigues her. She pulls out a piece of stationery in preparation for writing him back. Then she opens the package he sent. Her jaw drops slightly and she feels the prick of tears, memories of her Grandmother flooding her mind as she gazes at the tiny swallows on the head piece.

 _Inspector, I appreciate your concern and chivalrous offer of escape more than you can imagine. Trust me when I say that my Father couldn't get me to acquiesce quite so easily if I didn't choose to cooperate. Ask him how many times I was in that cupboard as a child. This situation made me admit that no man has ever intrigued me as you do Jack, and I find I need to know all about my as yet unsung hero. I also recognize that as a man of honor who always does the right thing, you will find it impossible to be one of the "parade" as you call them. After today there will only be a one man parade, and I very much look forward to corrupting you Jack. By the way, I adore my surprise. It is perfect and you brought my Grandmother into my thoughts for today. Thank you. I wish you could have known her. I will wear this headpiece and the swallow pin as my "something blue"._

 _Toasting my hero, Phryne_

Jack reads the note from Phryne and relaxes a fraction. He is still concerned, but the knot in his stomach eases slightly. He has after all offered her a way out. Now he begins to anticipate the day and the coming uninterrupted time with Phryne, his body tightening with desire as his mind moves to his memories of her kisses and the softness of her skin.

The party is in full swing with much laughter and meeting of people. Jack is introduced to so many people he can't keep up with many names at all. And he doesn't care as he will likely never see any of these people again. His mind is set on the upcoming event and his nervousness increases with each passing hour.

Phryne dances and gaily greets everyone and Jack can see once again her vivacious personality and ease with people. He continues to be the observer, noting everything, but focused on Phryne. As the evening wears on, he can see she is becoming slightly anxious and so is he. It is almost as if they are communicating with each other even though they are across the garden from each other.

At 9:00 Phryne gives Jack a look and then disappears.

Lord Fisher waits about 10 minutes and then calls the crowd to order. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming this evening. I have a very special announcement to make. Phryne is getting married tonight and you are all invited to stay for the ceremony which will take place here in the gardens in about half an hour. Please let me introduce you to the groom, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson from Melbourne."

Jack comes forward, and though nervous, maintains his cool demeanor and perfect posture. Phryne would be impressed for he even manages a smile though the whispers in the crowd are like the buzzing of bees. As people surge forward to speak with Jack and Lord and Lady Fisher their surprise at the turn of events is very evident.

In a bit, they move into an area of the garden that has a gazebo. The guests take seats at the tables that have been set up there and Jack goes to stand in front of the gazebo with the minister and waits patiently.

Very shortly Phryne and her Father come down the aisle made by the placement of the tables, the small orchestra playing softly in the background.

Jack is mesmerized by Phryne. She is breathtaking in the simple gown of ivory satin, her pale skin almost translucent against the material of the dress. She carries a simple bouquet of lilacs and roses. Jack observes that she is trembling slightly as she approaches, but she gives him the slightest of nods and he inclines his head a fraction in acknowledgement.

Once Phryne gets to him, the rest is a blur for Jack. He hears her saying her vows and him saying his as if he is in a long tunnel, but he is anchored by her eyes for they don't waiver despite her anxiety.

When he hears the Minister announce, "You may kiss the bride," Jack comes to the present abruptly. He looks down at her, the love he feels for her swelling as he gently takes her lips in a kiss sweet with promise.

The crowd begins clapping as they walk back through the garden. They then greet everyone as husband and wife and answer many of the inevitable questions. Jack is very keen in observing a lot of disappointed men.

Finally the seemingly never ending evening is over and the last guest is gone and it is just the four of them. Phryne's parents excuse themselves quickly, clearly tired by the events of the day, but oddly smug as well Jack notes.

Left alone in the garden Phryne and Jack stare at each other the enormity of what has taken place beginning to sink in for both of them.

Crossing the distance between them, Jack takes her into his arms, just holding her for a moment, "Are you ok Miss Fisher…I mean Mrs. Robinson?" Jack likes the sound of that and smiles slightly. "It's a bit overwhelming isn't it?"

"Yes, Jack, it is - a bit- more than a bit actually." She looks up at him now the slight shimmer of tears in her eyes, her expression very serious.

He looks back at her gravely. "Dance with me?"

"Is that a romantic overture?" In spite of her tears there is a bit of playfulness in her tone.

"I hope to cause you to lose all reason," he replies smoothly a slight growl in his voice.

At this Phryne can't help but smile and she nods in acquiescence.

And they dance. They move fluidly around the garden, their innate sense of rhythm and each other guiding them. They move until their hearts are beating as one and until they become lost in each other's eyes. Only then do they stop, hardly conscious of the fact that they are no longer moving. Next moment they are kissing hungrily, and Phryne does lose her sense of reason.

Jack molds Phryne's lithe body tightly against him as he explores her mouth, her warmth washing over him like a spring breeze. She whimpers in return, a sound so full of need and want that Jack loses control slightly, his kiss deepening and becoming much more passionate and determined. His hands cup her bottom snugly against his straining need his tongue more insistent in its exploration.

He swings her up into his strong arms and carries her easily, cradling her against his chest to sit with her on a swing he noted in earlier wanderings through the garden. Her arms twining around his neck and her fingers buried in his hair, the pads of her fingertips rubbing deliciously against his scalp cause chill bumps to erupt all over his body and his involuntary shiver of need causes Phryne to break off their kiss, breathing erratically.

"Jack?"

"I'm fine. More than fine actually, but it has been a very long time since I allowed myself to think beyond kissing." He quirks his half smile at her his left hand holding her to him and his right moving across her to stroke her from her delicate neck to her breast where he pauses allowing his hand to squeeze gently and closing his eyes at the feel of her response before trailing his hand lower and going completely still. There is a slight rustling in the bushes, but neither of them pays much attention with the other night sounds and their preoccupation with each other.

He captures her lips again before breaking away breathing heavily, "Phryne, I think if you do not want to be ravished here in the garden, we need to move to a different location."

"As keen as I am to be ravished Jack, I do think we should save the garden for another time. I have a desire to christen my girlhood room tonight." At Jack's start of surprise Phryne lets a giggle escape her, "Twill be a first for us both." At Jack's choking sound she laughs again, "Don't look so scandalized Inspector. I promise you won't picture me as young girl for very long."

"Phryne!"

Laughing she pulls away to stand up pulling him by the hand. "Come on Inspector before I change my mind. I find I have an unquenchable desire to remove all your layers." As Jack stands there is again rustling in the bushes, but they are oblivious.

Jack and Phryne's return to the house takes a bit of time as Phryne won't stop kissing him along the way. It is very clear by the time they reach the front door that both of them are barely restraining their desire.

Putting a finger to her lips to silence him, she leads him quietly up the wide staircase and down the hall to a room on the opposite side of the house from his. They stop outside the door.

"Wait," Jack says and at her questioning look he picks her up again and carries her across the threshold of her room capturing her lips in a sweet kiss as he does so. As he closes the door behind them with his foot, he takes a look around her room. Not sure what he was expecting, Jack is surprised by the room.

It is still decorated in the style of a girl, completely different from Phryne's bedroom in Melbourne. This room is lovely shades of coral and cream, but very frilly and clearly decorated for a much younger Phryne.

At Jack's puzzled look, Phryne explains, "My Mother didn't want to change my room before I ran off to join the ambulance service. I was as surprised as you to find it still decorated this way after having been gone so long. Luckily for you, after living in Collingwood, my Mother and Father wanted everyone to have very large and comfortable beds. You will find this one quite lovely."

"Jack growled, "I care nothing about the comfort of the bed at this moment, but I definitely want to…" What he wants to do is cut off by Phryne's mouth and a searing kiss.

Overwhelmed by their passion, they find they don't even want to take time to undress and thus they don't. Phryne unbuttons Jack's trousers pulling him free while Jack pushes her dress up around her waist stripping off her knickers and capturing her mouth again in a manner that leaves no doubt as to his intentions. "This will be over much too quickly, Phryne, but next time will be better, I promise," he says against her mouth and before she can reply he has lifted her into his arms, moving to the door as she locks her legs around him. Jack settles her against the door and lifting her slides into her depths. He stills for just a moment the sensations are so exquisitely torturous. He notes Phryne's eyes are closed a satisfied smirk gracing her mouth. He groans with need and begins to move knowing this will be a depressingly short lived coupling. His ears are full of Phryne's moans as well as his own. He moves a hand between their bodies hoping he can last long enough to bring Phryne to pleasure as well. To his surprise he finds her passion and impatience meet his and with minimal manipulation she is flying, her body pulsing around him as her passionate cries crescendo, drawing him to move faster until he isn't sure whose cries are louder and he flies into his own release. After what seems like hours his breathing returns to a more normal rhythm and after a few lingering kisses he separates them lowering her to the floor and then holding her close.

"Jack, that was…"

"I promise next time will be better, Miss Fisher," Jack says quietly his forehead resting against hers.

"Then I think we need to get busy on next time, Inspector as this time was most enjoyable. I would however, like to get you out of all these layers." And with a slow smile she begins to strip Jack of his layers pausing between each layer to remind him of the shape and taste of her mouth. When Jack is stripped naked before her she just drinks in the view. How beautiful he is! She thinks of the sculptures she has seen in the museums in Paris and knows that Jack could be the inspiration for the sculptors. He is truly a work of art and is clearly oblivious as he blushes beneath her heated gaze.

"Your turn Phryne," he says in a hushed whisper moving to unbutton the gown, sliding it from her shoulders and watching it slide into a shimmering pool at her feet. The lingerie revealed by the loss of the simple gown takes Jack's breath away. He has never seen anything like it. He pauses over it, admiring it and then his long fingers slide sensuously around her to unfasten it removing it slowly catching his breath at the revelation of her curves. He pauses briefly before allowing his fingers to explore what has previously been forbidden and he chuckles softly at her reaction, loving that he can cause that response. He then moves to remove her stockings, taking his time and kissing her from her mouth to her thighs and calves with the gentlest of barely there teasing kisses and breathing in her scent along the way– the scent that is uniquely her and that has haunted his dreams.

Once her stockings are off, Jack kisses back up her body and moves around her drawing her against him allowing his hands to roam freely finding which touch brings out the soft sighs of pleasure before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed where he gently places her on the mattress and then climbs in beside her.

"I see you are ready to continue where we left off Jack and so soon," Phryne chuckles at his clear indication of desire. Seeing the look of embarrassment that passes over his face she quickly adds, "And I am very glad of it for I would be disappointed if there was no evidence of your desire for me."

"Are you sure? You aren't too tired? It has been a long day and…"his uncertain words are cut off by Phryne's kiss. A kiss which deepens to a level previously not explored by them and Jack gives himself fully to it and to Phryne who proceeds to love him with abandon. When the storm of passion has passed and they are sated, they fall asleep entwined in each other's arms.

Phryne wakes first and is content for a bit to watch Jack sleep. He looks so relaxed and boyish in sleep his hair falling across his brow, his lips relaxed and even more kissable than when he is awake. Her eyes drop to his chest and the hair curling there wanting to run her fingers through it and down the trail it makes across his abdomen. Simpering Phryne slides silently from the bed and makes use of her bathroom, sliding into the creamy silk robe after her bath and brushing out her damp hair before leaving.

She meets Jack on her way out, and arching an eyebrow at him she gives him a sultry, "I'll be waiting Inspector," before sashaying past the robe clinging deliciously to her bottom causing Jack's heartrate to increase as he watches her swaying hips move back toward the bed.

Jack washes and shaves and brushes his teeth in record time. He really wants to repeat a couple of things from the previous night. He can hardly believe he is married again and filled with hopes for the future. He would contemplate a bit longer, but his body's memory of last night is stronger than his desire to contemplate the fact that he is married to Phryne Fisher.

He returns to the bed where Phryne is looking luscious in the silk robe. She has fallen asleep again and looks so small in the large bed that it reminds Jack they are in her girlhood room in her parents' house – parents who are likely awake and having breakfast. Jack pauses a moment wondering if they should go downstairs, but as he looks at Phryne he is overwhelmed with the desire to return to bed and make her his once again. He climbs into the bed and runs his hands beneath the silk robe to cover her breasts feeling the tremor in her and her body's tightening response beneath his palms. Longing for his mouth to follow the path of his hands, he unties the belt of the robe allowing it to fall away from her body so he can see her curves, breathtaking and all his now. Jack stares down at her and is overwhelmed by the desire to taste her so he begins a journey from her lips to her feet before returning and what he lacks in knowledge of loving with his mouth he makes up for in tenacity and determination and intuitive reaction to her tiniest response. Jack succeeds in bringing Phryne to several climaxes before she demands more. "I need you Jack," she pants as he continues to use his mouth to great advantage. "Please, now my love."

While Jack is loath to stop what he is doing as he has found a delightful pastime, he is rigid with need for release and so he moves to join them, the feeling of sinking into her again more than he can describe. He ceases all movement savoring how she feels and when she pulses around him Jack is lost. He begins to move losing himself in her. As they are coming back down to earth and Jack is whispering words of love into her ear there is a pounding on Phryne's door.

"Jack, Phryne, wake up," the Baron's voice is fraught with concern.

Quickly pulling the covers over them, Jack calls, "Come in Lord Fisher."

The door swings open and the Baron strides to the bed. "Sorry to have to disturb your… er rest, but there is a dead body in the garden."

"What?" Phryne and Jack both gasp.

"Yes, there is a dead body in the garden. I wanted you two to look it over before I call the authorities."

"Of course," again the answer is in unison.

"Give us ten minutes Father," Phryne says pointedly. The Baron leaves them closing the door softly behind him.

"Jack, as it appears murder has found us again, let me say this to you before we investigate. Last night and this morning have been some of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I didn't think it possible, but there is something to be said for being with a man who was foolish enough to ask me to marry him. I love you Jack Robinson. Now let's go catch a murderer."

With that Phryne is up and moving to get dressed. Jack is still abed stunned by her words. She said she loves me. A slow smile creeps across Jack's face before he too jumps out of the bed and dresses with utmost speed in all of his layers.

They make it downstairs before their ten minutes is up and they grab a couple of croissants realizing as they smell the delicious scents emanating from the dining room just how hungry they are. As they munch, they follow Henry through the garden to a spot no far from the garden swing.

Jack and Phryne go into detective mode immediately. They examine the body which appears to have had the throat slit either with a knife or a wire – they can't be sure which at this point. They follow the blood trail into the bushes even closer to the swing and there is some disturbance to the area. Something clicks in Jack's brain, "Phryne, do you remember when the bushes were rustling last night?"

"Vaguely, but I had much more important things on my mind," she grins impishly at him.

"Yes, well, as did I, but it appears that the rustling was not just a bird or other animal. It must have been our victim," Jack says coloring a delicate shade of pink.

"Why Inspector, you are blushing!"

"I am a grown man, I do not blush," growls Jack.

"That is what surprises me Jack – especially after last night and this morning."

If anything, Jack's blush darkens and Phryne laughs delightedly, "Oh Jack such fun to be had corrupting you!"

"Miss Fisher, if you could attend the problem at hand I would be most grateful," Jack snaps though there isn't much bite to his tone.

"Yes, Inspector."

"It appears our victim was attacked in the bushes here and then made it to the current location of the body before succumbing to his wounds. Let's examine the body a bit more."

Phryne leans over the body and begins inspecting pockets. From one of the pockets she pulls out a newspaper clipping. "Jack! Look at this!" the distress in her voice pulling Jack from where he is examining the blood spatter.

"A picture of us?" Jack asks incredulously? "What in the world?"

As they continue to examine the body, they find the man carried a knife, a gun and razor wire.

"Inspector, you don't think he was coming after us do you?" Phryne asks the obvious question.

Jack's face pales, but he nods, "I can't think of any other reason why a person with our pictures would be carrying these particular items. They don't appear to be wedding presents."

"We need to call Scotland Yard," Phryne says. "Father, don't let anyone move the body."

"Me?"

"Yes, you!"

Jack and Phryne return to the house not talking much; each lost in their own thoughts. As they call Scotland Yard, the doorbell rings and there is a messenger. "Telegram for Phryne Fisher."

Phryne takes the telegram and rips it open reading:

 _Miss Fisher_

 _I needed to let you know that Roberto Salvatore is planning to kill you stop And Gianni stop I pray this has found you in time stop. I think you are the one who holds Gianni's heart stop._

As they are reading this missive the doorbell rings again. It is another messenger. This time the missive is for Jack.

 _Gianni,_

 _You and Miss Fisher are in danger stop. Roberto Salvatore is planning to kill you both stop. Stay safe stop_

They didn't need signatures to know who sent the two telegrams. The question would be whether or not they would have to involve Concetta in the investigation. Hopefully they would not need to involve her since she took great risk to let them know of the plot.

There is another ringing of the bell and they think Scotland Yard has arrived, but it is yet another messenger.

 _Miss Fisher,_

 _I've taken steps to thwart Mr. Salvatore stop He acted alone stop_

Jack and Phryne exchange significant looks. Papa Antonio clearly sent the missive.

The next ringing of the doorbell is Scotland Yard. Jack and Phryne tell them that it appears the Cammora is involved and fill them in on their experiences carefully leaving out names.

Scotland Yard says they will handle the investigation and Jack and Phryne uncharacteristically agree. They have much more important things to do and they will be alert for additional Camorra involvement, but expect that Papa's influence is much stronger than Salvatore's. And they wouldn't want to interfere with Scotland Yard – at least not today.

Phryne takes Jack to all of her favorite London haunts over the next couple of weeks. She regales him with tales of visits to the various palaces as a young teen. They visit Buckingham Palace one sunny day then they take a picnic to Saint James Park and after lunch they make love under the willows gracing the bank of the lake. Jack has never made love outside and he is initially not very receptive to the idea, but Phryne is quite persuasive and soon all Jack can hear is the rustling of the wind in the willow branches and the lapping of the water and Phryne's soft moans of passion filling his ears. He gives himself to the experience and finds that he delights in the private world they create with each other. He keeps his eyes open as long as he can, watching the patterns the willow branches and leaves make on Phryne's skin as she moves above him, but he wants to be closer to her and so he sits up and rolls Phryne beneath him. As they move closer to the edge of ecstasy, Jack smothers Phryne's keening and his own responses, responses he didn't know he could make, with kisses. There is something raw and baring about loving her on the green grass beneath the willows and Jack loses all thought of anything except Phryne and her warmth around him and the rhythm of their bodies moving together and the words she mumbles between kisses – words that spur him to move faster, the inexorable pull toward the abyss consuming him such that he is only marginally aware of her shuddering tumble over the edge. Her body's response hastens Jack on to his own release – one he won't forget any time soon. Gradually the world comes into focus again and he grins down at her feeling the aftershocks of their joining all through his body and hers to find her smiling radiantly up at him.

"Jack, that was incredible," she stretches her arms like a cat and Jack rolls them to their sides still joined, cuddling her close and he whispers his agreement in her ear his breath tickling slightly, "I have never had such an experience. I don't have words." Jack pulls a blanket across them and they lay there in the sweet smelling grass with sweat cooling on their bodies and gradually they fall asleep hidden from the world beneath the willows.

They travel to Paris, Germany, Italy, the Scottish Highlands and to Ireland before they prepare to return to Melbourne making memories in each place that will stay with them for a life time.

A lifetime Jack muses slowly returning to the present and slowly waking his wife with gentle kisses, his hands seeking out her soft curves, his hunger for her stronger than ever. Jack Robinson smiles as Phryne wakes and turns to him the passion and love in her eyes reassuring him that they have a lifetime to love; that he has a lifetime of touching Phryne.


End file.
